A Bunny for His Birthday
by Dena Gray
Summary: Post VWII, everyone's alive. Albus makes a vague request of a certain Potions Master's Apprentice especially for our favorite hero's birthday. Mayhem ensues and speculation runs amok as to how she will interpret it. PWP, mature, AU, HGSS. Sensualism. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

Hello, my friends! This is something a little different from what I've been writing recently and the "bunny" simply bit me until I wrote it. I am still working on Lioness Loricatus, but I'm getting into heavy chapters and needed a break. This story is mostly written already and I plan on posting a chapter a day. It's up to 16 short chapters so far, so you'll have plenty of reading material buffer before I get through. ;) This is a PWP for mature readers, please. Well, as much of a PWP that 16+ chapters can be, but apparently I just write too much ;) Let me know what you think and thank you for reading! xoxo Dena

* * *

Chapter 1

"Albus wants to speak with me at half-five, so I really should get going." She set the last of the vials in the carrier tray and turned to look at Severus.

He looked up from the base he's started at the other end of the well-worn maple worktable, to the mechanical clock on the shelf behind her. "So you should."

She sighed quietly as he bent back over the noxious fumes, wishing he'd give her more than—apparently—the time of day.

She missed the cautious, watchful gaze that followed her as she left the laboratory.

He thought about what exact subject Albus was going to broach with her and wondered in what way she would interpret what was inevitably to be a very vaguely worded request. One he'd had nothing to do with, but secretly, deep in the back of his heart—and admittedly, other parts not so noble—he was interested to see the possible misinterpretation come to fruition.

Albus didn't know he knew. Only Rolanda did and she, herself, had spilled all the gory details of what the old man was planning late one night after he'd subbed for her at the last Hufflepuff-Ravenclaw Quidditch match.

She hefted her healing leg up onto an ottoman and grunted a bit before continuing her little reveal, "Twenty quid says she'll go the innocent route. That girl's too shy to be a Gryffindor without her pest—I mean 'best' pals around."

He poured her another shot of firewhiskey while he transfigured his into tea. After finally freeing himself from the yoke of an abusive drunk of a father, he refused to touch even a butterbeer. Rolanda hadn't noticed his switch and heartily sucked down her shot with an appreciative grin.

"While I would have to agree that she's certainly...tamer...without her counterparts nearby, I think she'll be an easy mark for Albus to befuddle. He'll have her romping around in a suit in no-time."

Severus nearly gulped his tea as the flying instructor's hawk-like gaze narrowed on him. She looked like she knew something he didn't, or understood something about what he'd just said that he missed. He exhaled slowly through his rather large nostrils in frustration. There were still times when he failed to grasp certain innuendos, especially if they involved women or sex.

Imagine that, a former spy crap at understanding women.

He thought there might be a muggle song or two about that subject, but pushed on, nonetheless.

He accepted her bet of twenty pounds, citing Hermione's Gryffindor sense of duty. Rolanda snorted and argued that duty was more of a Hufflepuff thing. Over the rest of the evening, they chatted a bit longer about the game. He gave her his observations, letting her know what to watch for when next the two teams played.

His dreams that night were filled with nothing new...just...Granger.

When she'd come in for her practicum lab this afternoon, it was hard to be in the same room with her, knowing that she would have such a request laid at her feet.

And that it was for his own benefit.

Almost every stir was marked with a question: Would she do it? Would she do something for him, something like this? He felt like a fool and bent over his cauldron so his hair would hide the blush that rose every so often, especially when she moved to tuck an unruly strand of hair out of her own face.

He sighed and went back to brewing after she left.

He'd know his answer soon enough. Right now, it was time to finish Poppy's next batch of Calming Draught.

Maybe he would administer a dose for himself so he wouldn't be on tenterhooks all afternoon. Time was past for all that grousing. Not that he'd really changed all that much, but it took quite a bit of effort to remove the decades of bitterness that had engulfed him. Granger helped slough off the rough edges, unwittingly, but he'd never actually be able to acknowledge that. Unless, Saturday...

He sighed again and kept stirring.

/

Hermione's mouth probably couldn't get much longer distance between mandible and maxilla, and if she was to judge from the headmaster's expression, her eyebrows were climbing into her fringe to complete the look. She found her voice somewhere in the bowels of her affront. "No." Staring at him didn't help, especially from this vantage point, so she stood up. "No, absolutely not. I don't care how amusing you think it might be, I absolutely will not do it."

He just smiled benignly at her. Peacefully. As if she would just acquiesce under his avuncular gaze.

That made her even angrier, because it was slightly working, so she used her biggest defense, "It's debasing and-and-and _vile_." She threw her hands out away from her person, paced away and back again. "How could you possibly think this would be something I'd do? Me!" She emphasized that singularity with her hands and kept staring at him as if he were one of Luna's creatures. Knowing her luck right now, he probably _was_ a Crumple Horned Snorkack. Luna would say they adored practical jokes.

Inspiration struck. That's what this was, wasn't it? "You're pulling one over on me, aren't you? This is a joke?"

He smiled at that and she thought she had a glimmer of hope but he quickly quashed it. "Alas, I am a great lover of humor, Miss Granger, but this is not one of those times. I simply think the two of you are much too engaged in your research for your apprenticeship thesis and with Severus' birthday coming up, this is an opportune time to let loose a little."

She pointed at him, "A little. A _little_, but this is too much, Albus. I will not—God, I can't even say it." She collapsed back into one of his infamous squashy chairs and folded her hands over her face in mortification. "Honestly! What made you think I would agree to such a thing?"

Silence met her for so long, she risked peeking out from the little fortress of her fingers to the perpetrator of her misery. He looked above her head, as if contemplating something or conversing with someone out of hearing range. Just when she was about to look over her shoulder, he looked back to her and smiled softly. "I offer you this: find one professor that will back you in not doing this, and I will withdraw my request."

She stared blankly at him in disbelief. Surely it couldn't be that easy, could it? "Only one?"

"Yes."

"And you'll drop the matter entirely?"

"I will."

"Any professor?"

"Any professor."

"You promise?"

"Yes, Miss Granger. Now, run along, I'm sure you've got a lot of convincing to do and I've got an appointment with the Australian Education Ambassador about encouraging the use of didgeridoos before bedtime to enhance magical application in students. Good day to you."

"Didgeridoos?"

"Yes, my dear. I must ask you to leave now, or I shall be late. You know we can't keep dignitaries waiting. So very impolite. Ah, one last thing, should you fail to come forth with any Hogwarts professor to aid you, you shall go forward with this, for Severus."

His bright twinkling eyes tilted up over his spectacles and she couldn't tell if it were meddling mischief or malicious mayhem deep within their glittering regard. She swallowed, remembering her obligation to Hogwarts...to Professor Dumbledore...to Severus...

Not many careers for a _witch_ without a completed education, now, were there?

Right.

At least he'd given her this avenue, so pursue it, she would.

She nodded her most amiable good afternoons to him and went in search of Minerva. Surely she could rely on the old battle-cat for help. Women stuck together in causes such as these, didn't they?

* * *

Whoo! So what do you think Minerva will say? I played around with the idea of not actually mentioning what the request is until later, but writing it in such a manner that you could easily infer what they were talking about. I hope you like it! Thanks again! xoxo Dena


	2. Chapter 2

I hope you enjoy my dementedness. Thank you for reading and thanks to Loyd1957 and Guiltypleasure2 for being my first reviewers! Loyd1957 – kind of. ;) xoxo Dena

* * *

Chapter 2

That old battle-cat nearly spat out her tea, barking in laughter, "He wants you to what?"

"I know! It's demeaning! I knew I could count on you to see the ridiculo-"

"Oh, no, no, my girl, you misunderstand me. I think you should do it."

Hermione sat, stunned, blinking, with her mouth hovering open above her teacup. A cog fit back into place in her head and she snapped her mouth shut along with the tea down to the table. "I think you misunderstand, Minerva."

Her former head of house let out a deep, throaty chuckle and a knowing look that said otherwise. She smiled, showing a little bit of teeth on the side of her mouth that flashed one of her slightly feline incisors, and leaned back in her seat, regally. "Long ago was the last time I was asked to perform any act in front of a man, even more one so relatively harmless." Minerva regarded Hermione a little too closely for her taste, "Do you have some reason to deny such a simple thing, other than your belief in its...degradation?"

Her lips pressed flat as her brow as she exhaled in frustration, "How could it be anything but degrading? Women only do that sort of thing if they're paid to, and for a man's pleasure, not her own."

Minerva blinked, perplexed. After an awkward moment when she thought perhaps she had misconstrued the afternoon's events entirely, her former head of house continued, "Hermione, I'd been led to believe that you'd had a rather healthy...er...enjoyment of men. Especially after the way you and Luna go on about the Quidditch celebrities that stop through on recruitment?"

Oh, right. Well, she did appear to act a little forward...sometimes... "Um...well..." She dipped her head and looked at her madly twisting fingers, then grabbed her teacup again to hold them still. "I have no problem with...looking."

The "Oh" resulting multisyllabically from Minerva's mouth made Hermione's molars grind in embarrassment. So what if she was a virgin? It hadn't ever...really...quite come up more than a few times...before now...

If Ron hadn't been such a git and gone off with Lavender _again_, perhaps that wouldn't have been an issue—

"So is it an exception to Severus?"

Hermione looked up in surprise at Minerva's challenging tone and could think of no other answer but the truth, "No, of course not."

The immediacy of the answer was a surprise to both of them, but Minerva quickly recovered with a knowing smile that grated on her nerves.

Oh, bugger it! She'd probably get farther with Filius. He was always a stickler for propriety. She thanked her former head of house for the tea and wished her a happy evening.

Now, where would the little old charmer be?

/

"I still don't understand, Miss Granger." He turned to Pomona, who had conveniently been taking sherry in his office when she came to call. Hermione had declined the offer, hoping to maintain an even keel to press the issue.

"Well, don't you think Professor Snape will be upset? Embarrassed?"

"Oh, I daresay he has nothing against small, fuzzy animals...?" His voice filtered off when Hermione looked helplessly to Pomona, who looked the shade of one of Luna's floating plums, but not in anger, oh no. No, she was ready to burst into laughter.

Filius blinked at his fellow head of house. "Pomona? Are you alright?"

Apparently, this was enough to finish her eruption, for she looked between the two of them three times and snorted into a bray of laughter loud enough to ring off the stone walls of Flitwick's office. Hermione rolled her eyes and slouched in her seat.

When she finally caught her breath, Pomona ventured forth, nearly squealing in her laughter, "Hermione-dear, if-if-if Severus would sit through th-_that_ from anyone, it would be you-hoo-hoo." At Hermione's shocked silence, she continued blithely, wiping her face of tears with a proffered handkerchief from Filius, "Oh, I'd pay galleons to see his face. There's no way in the Elysian Fields I'd give up a chance to see this. Albus has my backing." At that, she broke into a rocking kind of laughter that only matrons can do and Hermione grimaced.

She ventured one last look at Filius. He shrugged his little arms, helplessly. "I still don't understand what Severus is supposed to do with small animals at a birthday party, but if she thinks its alright, then it must be. Why don't you give it a try, eh? Can't hurt."

Pomona exploded again at his unfortunate implication of Severus and animals, but he'd just blinked obliviously.

He smiled at her with his dear little old man face and she ground her back molars into a grimacing smile in return, thanking them for their time before going off in search for someone reasonable...like Vector.

/

"Ha! If you think I'm standing in the way of that meddling old fool, you've got another thing coming!"

"But I-"

"You don't know half of what goes on in this castle, young lady, and trust me, you'd rather not." She narrowed her eyes thoughtfully at Hermione, "You know, I was once a bit upset that you decided not to take the apprenticeship I offered, but I see that Potions will do you better. Numbers never lie, and neither does Arithmancy."

"Please, just give me-"

"No."

Slam!

Well.

She looked down the hallway to make sure she'd not been seen or embarrassed by anyone, straightened her workrobes and strode off towards Sinistra's parlor.

/

"What did Minerva say?"

"Well, she...um...said for me to do it. But I don't think she sees my point-"

"And you also have already consulted the other heads of houses?"

"Yes, yes, they all jumped on the _bark_-wagon." She sighed into her newest cup of tea. "I'm beginning to wonder at my own convictions, actually, since so many are against the way I see it."

"Well. I'm afraid the stars won't help you. Or rather...they will." She smiled in her own, small way and motioned for Hermione to follow her through the parlor into her workroom.

"I beg your pardon?"

"The stars." Aurora waved a hand at the ceiling above them and the glimmering constellations she was used to seeing above the astronomer's desk wavered and disappeared in favor of another view. "They favor your extroversion in spite of your recent tendency to bury yourself in your work. It's all right here, really."

She pointed to an amazing ceiling full of natal charts, constantly moving and shifting, showing conjunctions and oppositions...so many things shifted through Hermione's mind as she stared from her own chart to...

"Is that his?"

They moved over to a brilliant emerald green double circle denoting the Head of Slytherin. Ancient symbols moved clockwise and counterclockwise in a microcosmic pattern of possibilities. Her eyes watched this slow dance for a moment, then looked down to Aurora in question.

"You know, I shouldn't be letting you see these, especially others', but it's nothing I haven't given you the tools to do yourself."

With that, she smirked and absented herself to her private chamber door, calling over her shoulder, "Lock up when you leave, will you? The usual wards will do."

She called out a hesitant and bewildered 'thank you', but Aurora was already gone.

Well.

It wasn't as if this were prognostication or some sort of sham fortune-telling that Trelawney dabbled with. No, this was what she'd missed with Firenze and what Aurora had only hinted at in her classes, focusing instead on the power of the positions of the planets in relativity to the Earth and how it affected a witch's or wizard's personal powers. Of course, one had to understand their own natal chart to bring reference into the relationship, but it was all there, all math, all science.

She stared at the glowing green sigils and wondered...perhaps not for the first time, but the first time taking it seriously, at the synchronicity of her own chart with his. It wasn't, after all, as if she hadn't fancied him for, oh, months now. It would be impossible not to, after knowing what she now knew of him and watching his slow reintegration into society. Every small revelation of what was him and what was put on for the sake of war held some knew device of understanding between them and she knew she wasn't the only one.

She couldn't be.

Could she?

Then again, even now, he was an incredibly private man that clung to his shadows and quiet. It had taken her months to break through enough just to get him to call her Granger instead of Miss Granger. He'd still not unbent enough to allow her to call him anything other than Professor Snape to his face, regardless of her first-name-basis with the other teachers. She did it behind his back just to...

Well, practice wasn't really the word, was it?

Hmm.

She looked over to her own chart, a dimmer gold shimmering several spaces away and after a few wand-pauses, one out of confirmation of the spell and two out of reaffirmation that what she was doing was all right (sanctioned by Aurora, even), she cast a synastry spell between the two—his and hers.

And frowned.

Blinked.

Thought about it...

"Oh, what the hell."

She banished the synastry casting and locked up Sinastra's office, warding it well before she left for her own rooms. Hermione had some planning to do if she was going to go through with this and even if Albus' plan was silly, she was nothing if not a perfectionist.

However...there was the one last string to tie off if she wanted this to go perfectly.

She made a u-turn for the dungeons.

* * *

Muahahah! So, what do you think will happen next? How did you like my interpretations of the Hogwarts staff? Thanks everyone for reading and I'll hopefully see you tomorrow! Xoxo Dena


	3. Chapter 3

A little bit early, just to give Yiggersentia something to read ;) ILYE, Yiggie!

Chapter 3

"What is it? It's the middle of the night and I think I dismissed you already today."

Hermione took a moment to appreciate the fact that it was so late and he was still fully dressed. Or had he gotten re-dressed? It had taken him a bit to answer the door... She banished that thought from her mind and smiled, "Thank you, Professor Snape, it's not the exact middle of the night, it's only nearing ten and I've something I wish to discuss with you. Something the headmaster asked me to do and I need your advice."

He stared, silently, at her for at least a minute, as he normally did when he wanted to wait her out and see if she'd just go away. Pity she'd already figured that one out. She kept smiling up at him, "Please?"

His lip curled and he let out a disgusted sound, backing away from his parlor door as he let her through. She smiled broader in triumph and shut the door quietly behind her.

It was not the first time she'd been to his parlor, as they were typically receiving rooms for adult guests such as other teachers or friends away from the professor's office. His was still a bit austere in comparison to others' but at least he'd added some cushioning to the chairs. He stole over to the threadbare settee that bore his hind-end imprint and sat exactly as it implied he would, rigidly. She sneaked sideways to the most comfortable guest chair, something one would normally see in a pub with a rounded back and green leather padding.

She'd not realised she'd been staring until he snarked at her, "I would like achieve _some_ sleep tonight, Granger, so if you wouldn't mind..."

Oh, that was definitely something he shouldn't have said to her in her current frame of mind. She blushed furiously pink and looked away from him to his private chamber door, then realized what she was looking at and dropped her eyes to her hands.

"Now what could have caused such an interesting shade of embarrassment in you, I wonder?"

Her eyes flew up to his at his query and for a moment, she could have sworn he was teasing her. Wasn't he? Was he? Good God, what if he was? That was good, right? Wasn't it?

Oh gracious, yes, it was. She blinked to try and control her expression as realization flushed her body. It was one thing to find him attractive, another thing entirely to think something possible...

She swallowed and stammered out, "The headmaster-"

He interrupted what was surely to be an awkward explanation, "I'm aware of his plan...concerning you."

Well, that was convenient...and strange. Her eyes must have been bulging quite unattractively, "How?" This was supposed to be a surprise, wasn't it? Well, he'd not said Albus told him, or any such direct contact, just that he was aware, which meant there was most likely talk—

"Nevermind that. You wanted to ask my advice on this?"

She blinked and nodded in confusion. He'd sworn off using Legilimency after the war. He'd promised. Were the rumors just that rampant? Was she that transparent? Possibly. It was all possible, here.

He stared at her for a moment before she blinked away, breathless. He stood up and walked over to a large globe standing on three wooden legs. Latitude and longitude were marked out in brass accoutrements and each country was a different color. She'd seen these in the Muggle world, but it always piqued her interest that Severus had one. He remained facing away from her as he placed his hand on the globe.

"I'm sure you've already consulted others on stopping this and failed to gain their backing?"

Something about his voice made her wonder how _he_ felt about this situation. It wasn't as if she'd have thought he'd known. Albus had implied this was a surprise, after all. And Severus, well, there was once a time when he'd have despised being made the center of attention in such a fashion, but now? He seemed almost...hurt that she'd gone to others. Or perhaps others, first?

Or perhaps that she'd tried to stop it?

Her heart picked up a wild tempo at the possibility. What if he _didn't_ want to stop it?

"Professor Snape-"

His head turned slightly to the side, towards her so that she could see the profile of his eye and that big, lovely nose over his shoulder through his hair.

Perhaps the way to find out his true feelings on this wasn't her usual eggshell-treading and kid gloves. After all, his best friends had always been Gryffindor women, hadn't they? Lily, Minerva...She took a deep breath, "Severus."

He looked away, back to the wall above the globe. "I've re quested you not to call me that."

"I know." He'd never explained why, and she'd never really asked, but she'd always assumed it was due to a limit he was reaching. Something to do to keep the line between them from fraying too much. She smiled at her analogy. So many new things happened nearly daily to make that line tie itself up into knots that the line just kept getting shorter and shorter. Fairly soon, she'd be able to step right around it.

She blinked.

Like, now.

She stood up and walked, slowly, measurably towards his back. She didn't try to quieten her footsteps or hide her proximity from him, he'd know anyway.

"Severus?"

She could have sworn he shivered, but so very little, it might have been a trick of the candlelight. With a slightly huskier voice than she'd have thought she possessed, she asked her question, "Do you want me to...perform at your birthday celebration?"

Something in his stance changed. He straightened and moved—well, faster than she could follow—across the room and sat back in his chair. She blinked and watched him go, but waited for an answer where she stood.

He looked...flustered...which was thrilling and exciting and scary and...oh, God, what was she supposed to do now?

She reached her hand behind her for the brass circle around the globe and focused a small amount on feeling the lines to keep herself from following him across the room and...and doing something she'd be sure to regret later.

Or maybe, she'd just regret how she did it, but not what she did. Hmm.

He still hadn't answered her, but he had taken a breath as if he were trying to. She tried to keep the growing disappointment off her face as his seemed to be starting into a frown.

He took another breath and looked at her, then said, "You know Albus. Once he gets fixated on something, it's difficult to break him free of it."

She looked for signs of which way he wanted to go, but saw no proof. "He did promise if I found one professor to back me..."

Severus nodded and looked away.

She watched him think through his next sentence and realized that he'd done it again. He'd couched all his words—his wants—in backwards, hidden omissions and phrases, something he did when he was faced with a particularly difficult or personal problem.

And if this wasn't difficult or personal, she didn't know what was.

So she let go of the brass circle of tiny lines encompassing the globe and stepped the half-dozen paces to be in front of his chair.

He looked up at her and frowned again.

When he didn't howl at her about personal space and respect for privacy, she took that as her cue to ask him probably the hardest question she ever would, "So, how do you feel about this charade?"

He made a questioning face at her and breathed in, "Charade?" He leaned his head to couch in one hand and did something she'd never thought he would. He blatantly looked her body up and down, as if he were shopping and she were a choice cut. She was breathless again by the time his eyes reached back to hers and he continued, his voice slightly deeper than before, "Don't you think it kind, simply to humor an old man?"

Somehow, she didn't think he was referring to Albus.

And that was exactly the opening she was looking for. She tilted her head, smiled and batted her eyes at him, as she normally did when her point had been proven and she merely needed to finish driving it home. He straightened and sat back in his chair, placing both hands on the armrests as she squatted neatly before him.

She very carefully did not touch him, but the space between their knees burned like Greek fire. He stared at her as if she were a particularly dangerous animal.

She spoke in a low, soothing tone, "Severus, I will not do this for Albus, or for humoring an old man." She continued smiling devilishly up his lap at him as his face went carefully blank.

"I will not do this for anyone..." She waited as her pause registered in his brain and a faint fire of question sparked in the midnight eyes that met hers, "Except you."

With that little bombshell, she smiled, stood up with a small step backwards, smoothed her skirts and nodded 'good evening' to him. She watched the stunned expression on his face break from its paralysis of shock into the burgeoning of a million questions, but she'd already reached the door and slipped out with a wriggle-fingered wave over her shoulder and a barely suppressed laugh.

As soon as his door was shut behind her, she leaned back on it with a gigantic grin and a tight, ecstatic trill of happiness.

She heard him hoofing it to the door after her, so she ran as quickly as she could to the next hallway perpendicular and disillusioned herself. Sure enough, his door was wrenched open, slammed shut, and the surprising sound of Silent Snape's footfalls rang out against the stone floor and his dark form rushed past her hiding place...

She watched him disappear up the wide staircase leading up to the grand stairwell (he really was a sight to see, flying up the steps like that) and then slowly made a circuitous route back to her room. By the time she reached her door nearly a half-hour later, she seemed to be alone (unless he'd been using a concealment charm as she'd done).

Hermione stared at her door for a moment, then decided whatever he might have done would most likely not endanger her enlisted help, especially her fingers, so she reached for the handle with one hand and unlocked it with the other.

Bright green spiky cursive danced magically across her doorway as soon as she touched the latch.

"_Except me?"_

She smiled warmly and watched the words waver as they hovered at eye-level, appreciating his magic, his intelligence, his inventiveness and creativity. With a quick twist of her wand, she unanchored the words from her doorway and took them inside, closing the door behind her.

After a quick look around, she decided they would look most adorable over her fireplace mantle and went about anchoring them there. The words would probably fade after a few hours, but she could look at them happily as she planned her role in this debacle.

She had a lot of planning to do in three days, and the twins were just the lads to help her.

A/N: Hope you liked this bit! Let me know what you think ;) xoxo Dena


	4. Chapter 4

This one's a little bit longer, but I didn't want to leave you TOO edgy ;) **Evil Grin**

Chapter 4

Severus thought himself quite unequivocally as unpleasant and antisocial. Life had moulded him to be so. He reminded himself of this almost daily whenever he asked himself why he'd ever been arsed to offer an apprenticeship to Granger. Asking himself this question wasn't to gain an answer, the action simply served as a reminder that he shouldn't coddle her, befriend her, like her.

Her or that hare-brained ring-leader they called a Headmaster.

They were both so...

Gah! He gritted his teeth and dropped down behind his desk, knowing no student would dare interrupt him after the particularly horrific class he'd just finished. He spread his hands flat on the smoothed, aged walnut of his desk and wondered if he just had a particular weakness for straightforward Gryffindors. They always seemed to get their way with him.

Of course, anyone who ever accused Albus of being straightforward would be gravely mistaken. He huffed in frustration and reached for a quill, trying in vain to scan the grading before him. An inkdrop splotched onto the page before he could even form a properly withering response to the third-year's Trollwork.

He sat the quill back into its stand, vanished the inkspot and leaned back in his rather comfortable buttoned leather chair.

Why had she said that last night?

_Except him._

Why?

He knew the simple answer, that she was trying to convey the start of something, but why _now_? Why, after all their circuitous dancing about each other, all the not-so-veiled hints that he appreciated her, that he liked talking to her...

Ah, who was he fooling? He'd taken a deeply Slytherin route and made sure every word could be interpreted otherwise, innocent, professional. She'd just needed to _want_ to see something deeper and she would have.

So what made her want to see it _now_? Albus' meddling? Something told him he'd lose that bet to Rolanda about Granger misunderstanding the request for his birthday, and that probably had to do with Albus and his oblique way of asking for things.

Hmm. Then again, if he knew Albus, and he did know Granger...that was when she started wanting to see him differently. Or, perhaps before, and her subconscious latched onto the possibilities down that path.

He thought back to their conversation last night, again. _Except him_. He'd hoped to catch her somewhere on the stairs and wrangle more of an explanation out of her in some dark corner along the way, but she'd outsmarted him. When she finally reached her door, he was almost ready to give up and walk back down to his dungeons but she'd rounded the corner and he'd concealed himself.

He was very glad to have thought ahead to hide where he could see her face when she triggered his spell. That smile...that softness in her expression was not something obtained from a few hours of contemplation. It was something wrought from time, and the tenderness she showed as she stared at his words nearly had him reveal himself.

Her own actions stopped him when he assumed she was going to banish the spell. Instead, she lifted the placement anchor—not an easy feat—and took his words inside. He'd stared in compounded shock at her door as everything tried to find foothold in his brain.

It was rather difficult to get through last night and this day, thinking and wondering over the questions and implications between them.

He leaned back and closed his eyes, reflecting back on each sensitive and delicious moment over the past semester, regardless of how minute. Months of wordplay, fine-tuning, relaxing into each other's space, learning habits and expressions...so many things he'd memorized and savored as tiny sips from a deep well. He knew there could be so much more, but she'd only seemed to address him with respect, regard, kindness...

It was assumed she merely thought him too old to see him as she did those pro-Quidditch recruiters. Oh, he'd seen her and that Lovegood creature ogling the celebrities as they came to each game. And if she'd simply ogled, he'd have thought nothing of it, but no. No, Granger and Lovegood talked lewdly, suggestively about each celebrity's bedroom prowess.

Huffing and rolling his eyes, he rather thought less of her after hearing them talk like that, but then, he knew very well that one might act differently when one is expected to. Despite the vulgarity, it might be the one way the two girls could connect.

So many of that year had gone their separate ways after the war, he couldn't blame her for hanging onto one of the few friendships she had left. Merlin knew, Potter was too busy with his family and political career and that Weasley boy had his head between the Quidditch rings. He honestly couldn't remember her remarking on so much as a letter from either of them in months.

He'd seen how she'd been isolated and tried to cajole her out of any impending depression with work and...well, perhaps he might have been a bit harder on her than he'd intended, but what about what she'd said!

She must not mind his argumentative behavior, his snappish attitude. The few times her friends had visited her in the early weeks of her apprenticeship, she'd certainly not taken much truck with _them_. Nor anyone else, student or otherwise, for that matter...

He remembered her words again, "_Except you_." He mulled over the etymology of them. She thought him an exception. Exceptional. Him. Only him. Excluding all else but him.

His lips parted and he took a deep breath, still with his eyes closed, in his chair, at his desk.

His distraction was so great that he actually contemplated a bit of hand-to-hand sport and moved his left hand almost an entire inch before someone cleared their throat and said, "Professor?"

She. Was standing in front of his desk. Looking at him, his face, her eyes freely starting to move down his body—

He quickly leaned forward and propped his elbows on the desk and tried to think of a reason for her to be here at...was it already gone four? His burgeoning interest subsided and he stood up abruptly, looking away from her.

"Start with the sneedle root, four millimeter slices, lengthwise."

When she didn't move, he stopped shuffling the papers on his desk needlessly. "You are here for your practicum, are you not?" She still didn't move, so he looked up at her again.

Oh, Cerunnos, this was going to be a long two hours. She'd smarted herself up, just like she'd done at the beginning, before he'd made up some excuse about covering every inch of skin for protection. She'd eyed him strangely, but came to the following practicums with full robes from then, onwards. It was like watching a mini-McGonagall develop under his wing.

But today?

Buttoned up blouse and skirt, ala Muggle. If she bent over or turned and showed even the slightest bit of undergarment, he was done for. Schooling his features as calm as possible, he met her eyes again. She winked at him—the gall!— "I am. Sneedle root, it is, sir."

For one heartstopping moment, he was afraid her use of 'sir' was going to be 'Severus'.

As she walked to the laboratory door, she took off her outer robe. His eyes widened and he couldn't help a slight intake of breath.

Blouse.

Button placket.

Lace.

He dropped down into his chair as she hung her robe on a peg by the laboratory door.

"Sir? Are you alright?"

He snapped over his shoulder, barely able to get that much out, "Sneedle root!"

"Four millimeters, lengthwise, got it."

He turned just enough to make sure she was heading off into that room and not hovering, then let out a deep, shuddering breath.

At least the skirt was knee-length.

He wrestled control over his pelvis again and steeled his shoulders for a very long two hours.

/

"Sneedle root's done, sir. Now what?"

She smiled at him, expectantly. As if they'd not gone over the burn paste ingredients time and time again. He was about to be thankful for her playful obtuseness, giving him something to heap anger on, when he noticed...that...

Her skirt wasn't at her knees. It had ridden up and the lace of a slip was just peeking out from underneath it. She even walked over to her stool and shifted her rear-end onto it, letting the skirt move about as it would.

And it did.

He blinked, tearing his eyes away from her legs and lace and stalked over to his ingredient pantry. Slamming a tray down on the worktable behind him, he methodically went through the list of items they'd need.

It wasn't to remind him, it was to get his mind off of her!

This wasn't fair! Why did she decide to do this, now, all of a sudden? They were nearly done with her practicum, it was only a matter of weeks before she'd start on writing her thesis conclusions...

And then, what?

He'd not thought that far, hadn't wanted to. She could take her damned apprenticeship and flit over to Beauxbatons, for all he cared.

But now?

What, now?

It was not a matter of rolling in the sheets and then saying goodbye at terms end. He couldn't do that. Not with her. Not with—Hermione.

It wasn't the first time her self-forbidden first name had rollicked through his mind, but it certainly still had the power to reach into each dark corner of his body and close the circuit on every nerve ending, sending small electrical jolts along his shuddering muscles.

He heard a noise behind him and reigned himself in to turn and see her climbing a footstool to reach a number four iron cauldron and couldn't believe his eyes.

Her skirt's design was slit up the rear several centimeters and providing a clear view of fluttering lace. This time, he could tell its color since her skirt was nearly hiked up her bum as she leaned over the counter.

Not one ounce of indecent exposure, and yet it _was_ indecent. Her undergarment was light green, with ivory lace dancing up that back slit that now gave a very tantalizing view of the inner curve of her right knee—

"Professor, may I request your assistance, please? This is a little too heavy for me."

She looked coquettishly over her shoulder as she stretched up from the step stool to lean onto the counter with one knee.

He had a rapid vision of curling into her from behind and wrapping himself in her satiny curves, ready to be lost in her shape and form.

No. No, no, no, no, no. This was too much, too fast, too far. He needed more time with her, to advance in his own way. Perhaps he should make that point clear before her skirt ended up a belt and he ended up on his knees.

If they were to make a go of this, they needed mutual respect founded on deep affection, not some race for sex down a dirty corridor. Or a laboratory table.

He strode over to where she still stood on the footstool and took her hand off the iron cauldron.

It felt...warm, dry, soft, smooth...his thumb itched to trace its pad along her knuckles, but he had only dared this far. "Come down from there, please."

He assumed her confused blink was for his unusual use of manners or his softened tone, but she tilted her head and smiled, then stepped down. Towards him.

They stood a step and a half apart and he held onto her hand, crossed with his between them. He continued staring, but now that he'd formulated at least a haphazard plan, his gaze held a modicum of patience. Her smile dropped, finally, and she looked to their hands.

His thumb had apparently a mind of its own and was caressing the dips and swells under the velvety smooth skin of her knuckles.

"Hermione."

They both held their breath after sharply inhaling and stared at each other in surprise. He, because he didn't realize he was going to say her name aloud until the last moment. She was surely surprised he'd even said it at all. Their eyes danced back and forth with each other and he swallowed the lump in his throat, expelling his breath. She did as well, but slowly.

"Yes...Severus?"

He did not blink, he breathed in the very air that carried his name from her lips and used the perfume as courage to continue.

"I have to ask you," regardless of the fact of so many revelations in the past few minutes, it was still difficult to voice such a request. He searched for the right way to say it.

She prompted, "Yes?" He could barely hear her breathe an extra few syllables under her breath of "anything".

_Anything_. His heart stuttered in his poor chest as he realized she wanted _anything_ from him. It gave him the gift of patience, knowing she could be—would be—his.

It also gifted him with an imp of flirtation as he twisted the corner of his mouth into a very small smirk and finished his sentence, "—to please lengthen your skirt to cover your undergarments properly. Those are not the working garments we have discussed."

The fact that he'd been able to deliver his directive with a direct gaze and a soft voice, murmured almost right above her head had been exquisitely performed. He stepped away from her gaping expression, still holding her hand.

He looked down at it, as he'd not meant to hang on to it, but after a moment's thought fantasizing about pulling her into his arms and finally tasting her, he decided to drop her hand, regardless, and backed away with a slight nod.

Her face was almost darling in its consternation.

Without another word, he turned away and stalked back to the ingredients pantry, acquiring the tray of material. His breathing became slightly erratic, making him close his eyes and take a quiet, steadying breath before turning back around and meeting her back at her station. He was pleased to see that she'd followed his directions and her skirt was now three centimeters longer.

Wondering what time it was, he looked to the clock situated on the far shelf and saw that a mere twenty minutes had passed. He sighed and dropped the pan at her station, shoving it towards her with a shadow of his fabricated disdain. "You should know the potion and the steps, let's see you apply it."

She didn't move except to stare from the tray to him with a confused expression. He blinked back at her before remembering: Ah, yes, the cauldron. He stepped back around the table and reached high to pull it down. When he turned back around, she was still at her station, but she was settling herself on the swiveling stool and looking at him in a rather odd fashion.

He walked up to her the four paces it actually took to approach the table again and paused directly in front of her. She just kept looking at him. He arched a brow and slowly deposited the heavy cauldron on the burner to her left, leaning into her personal space as he did so.

Heat sat heavily in the air between them, little atoms practically sparkling with energy in the few inches separating his robes from her silken shoulder. Situations flew through his head in fantastic impossibilities and he practically had to force himself to inch away until he was standing properly.

She looked so very close to saying something, her mouth even wavered a bit (and that caught his interest, if not his direct gaze) before she snapped her mouth shut and the moment was lost.

He stepped even further away and she proceeded through the steps of the potion.

A/N: Okay! Whaddya think? ;) Thank you to all who have read, favorited, followed and reviewed! I love you all! Xoxo Dena


	5. Chapter 5

You know, I've yet to put a disclaimer on this? Of course I don't own the Harry Potter world or anything JKR-related. I do like to pretend so, so let me have my little daydream, eh? ;)

* * *

Chapter 5

The gall of him! Hermione defiantly recentered the cauldron on the burner and poured the half-liter of water into it before jabbing her wand to set the burner aflame. He was being...obtuse! She'd worn this outfit specifically to entice him and all he could do was confound her with a request to lengthen her skirt. It had taken weeks for this particular slip to come in and she wanted to show it off, hoping it would start something...

Instead, he simply helped her down from the step ladder and—

She tossed the sneedle root into the water along with a small, pilled up spider's web, knowing the plunking noises would irritate His Holiness.

Oh, who was she kidding? She could get angry at his strangeness all afternoon, but it was worth hearing her name drip from that honeyed mouth. She sighed internally. And then, his liberties with her hand! Her heart dipped down into her stomach—or perhaps someplace lower—at the thought of his hand embracing hers as it did.

She bit back a groan as she relived that hair-raising conversation, stuffed full of innuendo—he couldn't possibly have meant what he was implying, could he?—that he'd been bothered by her slip showing.

Would that he do something about that.

She scraped a jabberknoll egg membrane into the mix with a grating scratch of knife to soapstone.

Ever since Albus made that ridiculous request and then her talk with Aurora, she'd had little lacewing flies rushing through her stomach at the turn of thought from fantasy to possibility. She'd indulged in many scenes of romantic daydreams over the past few months, but they were stuff and nonsense. Now...her thoughts were more intense, real, zapping desire through her veins at the drop of a quill.

It was rather difficult to concentrate on her practicum skills, as it were.

She felt heat at her back and his hand entered her peripheral vision, around her side, to stop her own from dropping the next ingredient into the potion. His voice rolled through her ear canal, soft, dark, gravelly, "I'd hate for you to ruin such a promising start with such disastrous timing. Look at this potion and tell me when the correct time to add toadstool ribs would be?"

She was melting, grabbing the edge of the counter in front of her and gripping it tightly to bring her mind back to sanity. Had he asked her a question? She turned her head, instinctively, and nearly met his. It was a shock, being this close to him after all the pushing away he'd done for so long.

His eyebrow lifted ever so slowly...

Ah, yes, toadstool ribs. She broke their gaze and looked back down to the cauldron, remembering the steps she'd already taken and where she should be at this moment.

"Um...right. My apologies. I shouldn't add them until the base has been brought to a boil, then cooled. After the ribs are added, then I bring it back up to a simmer and cool again, adding sparrowfoot powder and alum in the final steps to congeal."

He finally stepped away from her and she took a deep, quiet breath.

"That is correct." His elbow appeared on the counter to her right as he leaned on the wooden tabletop facing her at an angle. "What would have happened if I had not stopped you?"

Seeing him relaxed like this was...weird...and was doing funny things to her wants and dreams for the future. She could stay here with him forever, but he was not one to wait for an answer, "The ribs would have reacted poorly to the temperature shock and released an airborne version of their hallucinogenic properties." She looked to him with a bit more bravery than she actually felt, but pressed on, nonetheless, "We would have gotten lightly stoned and the previous ingredients would create a buildup of mucus in our sinuses from the resulting vapors that would have been rather unattractive for at least a few days."

His lips quirked and she focused on them rather than what he was saying, "Again, correct. I finally start to get original answers from you instead of your incessant spewing of textbook tripe."

Her eyes flew up to his in confusion. Was that a compliment? Granted, it was more backhanded than her mother's tennis game, but...yes. It was one.

She tried to hide her blush by focusing on the temperature of her cauldron.

Right.

/

That night, Hermione floo-called Fred and George. She'd rushed to her rooms after practicum and written out a detailed list of what she needed and from whom. Once that was settled, and after several calls to Madam Malkins and then Twilfitt and Tattings, she finally reached the part of her list that required the twins' help.

Mid-call, she rolled her eyes and huffed, "I don't care if you have to Imperio them, just get them all dancing!"

One of them smiled indulgently while the other responded, "Listen, love, it'll be a little difficult to get a good third of the faculty to dance—

"—much less the entire staff. Why don't we—"

She damn near growled at them. Didn't they get her plan? She thought she'd laid it out rather plainly. "I can't very well get him to dance with me if everyone's just _watching_, now can I?"

"Point taken, but, Hermione, the question still stands as to how?"

She blinked at them. "Are you the infamous proprietors of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, or not? Figure something out with those mischievous brains of yours. I've got a bunny-dance to choreograph." At that, she concluded the floo call.

The twins looked at each other in amusement after canceling the call on their end. It would be a real shocker to see her in that get-up, but they had to hand it to the old man. No one else could have gotten her to do something so uncharacteristic. And now, it was obvious to them both that she was going all-out for Snape's birthday. With a brainwave all their own, they looked to each other with the same thoughts and grinned, "Wicked."

Fred was the first to break out of their travel down the path of possibilities, "So, what do you think?"

George cocked his head to the side, "Well, we did finish production on that Jumping Jitterbug food additive."

"But we haven't cleared it for use with all food and drink, yet. We don't know how it'll react with alcohol."

They shrugged in unison and smiled.

"We'll find out."

/

That next morning, Severus saw her at the bottom of the main steps as he made his way to breakfast. She was speaking with a seventh-year Ravenclaw who had his back turned to the room. Granger—Hermione—ended her conversation with the boy and started in his direction. Either that, or the direction of the Great Hall. She seemed not to notice him, but as she passed him and his scowl, she peeked up at him through her lashes.

Her face was calm, collected, but there was some difference he wasn't sure about that just screamed desire. Perhaps it was the veiled heat in her eyes or the slight pout to her lips, but she walked by and practically purred at him, "Good Morning...Severus."

He nearly shuddered and had to steel himself from reacting.

There. _That_ was why he'd not allowed her to use his name. It wasn't that he didn't like it, it was that he liked it too much when said in her voice. Like _that_.

Especially like _that_.

She continued on her way, sauntering ahead of him to the teacher's entrance. As he watched her hips slide back and forth under her robes as she walked, he wondered if she was wearing that slip again. Or maybe something different, like a camisole and tap pants. His imagination wandered away from him as he followed her into the Great Hall, working up an image of her sprawled across his bed in nothing but satin and lace, her bronze hair spread out across his pillow.

He desperately sought his seat next to her, if only to quell the burgeoning interest a certain part of his anatomy began.

They'd made their way uneventfully through the presentation of plates, but he was now painfully aware of her every move.

She licked her lips before taking a sip of tea.

She uncrossed and recrossed her ankles from the right to the left, away from him, angling her thighs towards him.

Her fork slipped into her mouth and back out again, quietly, softly, lips dragging against the metal to contain whatever she'd chosen to feast upon.

She tucked a curl behind her ear.

He sighed. Seeing these actions through his peripheral vision was driving him insane. He wanted to look at her directly, but had no valid reason to. He buried himself in his coffee and tried to distract himself from thoughts of her...

when...

He felt her foot hook slowly around the back of his ankle and rub downwards with a massaging pressure.

Shocked, he nearly spat his coffee and looked back to her in confusion, confirmation.

She was staring straight forward and sipping her tea as if nothing were happening at all.

He shifted his foot forward to try and regain some mental capacity, but her stocking-clad toes simply traveled upward a bit, up under his trouser leg.

His only hope that she'd relinquish him soon was that his socks were held up by braces and she'd not easily reach any skin. His hopes were dashed as she contented herself with the texture of his socks and the protruding bone of his inner ankle.

Shock and electricity danced up his leg, through his femoral artery and into his groin. He felt himself tighten reflexively, blood now successfully outside of his brain. He was trapped at the high table with nothing to protect himself except the table linens from the entire rest of the staff seeing her flirtation and his unavoidable response.

His heart raced as he tried to think of a way to end this torment before he was too hard to have it go back down again easily. If he simply stood up, everyone would know immediately and wonder why.

He looked to Hermione and thought perhaps they wouldn't wonder too much. The cream-fed catlike look on her face would give everything away. He needed to break this spell before it was too late. He needed to shock her, put her in her place, but how?

Ah. What about another misdirection of the truth?

He leaned towards her ear and talked low enough for only her hearing, "If you do not desist your foot's pawing of me immediately, I shall have to withdraw my birthday request from the headmaster for tomorrow night."

It was a shot in the dark, but why wouldn't she believe him? Granted, he would never make such a request, and only Albus could come up with something so deviously matchmaking, but...she might not know all of that.

Then again, she might take him up on that offer. It was a risk, but they were already on the road to flirtation and he was starting to get nervous about tomorrow night. What he'd told Rolanda was right. She was Gryffindor enough to misinterpret a vague request from their headmaster in the most brazen way possible.

No one told her the old man merely wanted to show off her animagus form, and there really was no telling how angry she would be when she realized her error as well as everyone allowing her to do so.

Her foot had stopped immediately, but it was only after a moment's pause that she removed her foot and slipped it back into her shoe. It was then that he noticed an odd expression on her face. It was somewhere between surprise and avarice.

Greed? Want? What was that look? She carefully placed her tea cup back to its saucer and inhaled through her nose. He watched her through the side of his eyes and waited for her response.

This was Hermione. She _would_ have a response.

Her lips quirked into a quick smile that was just as quickly gone and she leaned over to him, placing her hand boldly on his thigh. He inhaled sharply but did not move away.

Her voice was low, honeyed, sweet to his ears, "All you ever had to do was ask...me."

With that little bomb, she stood up slowly, rising to stand next to him so that her breasts were directly in his view.

Another silk blouse, then. His eyes dragged themselves forward to his coffee as she left the Great Hall for his classroom.

This was going to be a very, very long day.

* * *

A/N: The potions ingredients are pretty much made up. I gave a thought as to what ingredients would do something similar in the muggle world (mushrooms have a cell-regenerative mineral present, egg membranes repair burned skin to a small degree, and sparrowfoot powder is my spin on arrowroot powder. Spider silk has long been used to pack wounds and I have no idea what sneedle root is. I made it up.) Obviously, I'm working with fiction, here ;)

Thank you so very much, my lovely readers and reviewers! And thank you to all the wonderful people who have favorited and followed this story so far :) You guys make me smile!


	6. Chapter 6

buckle your broom-belts, my darlings! Things are heating up! Mature readers only, please. xoxo Dena

* * *

She was...excited...surprised to think that Severus could have initiated this whole thing. There was a part of her brain that thought perhaps he didn't and was trying to manipulate her this morning, but...what if he was telling the truth? That meant he really had initiated things and it allowed her to be more bold in response.

She entered his empty classroom and thought about the best way to go about frustrating the hell out of him today.

Hmm.

Well, she'd have to set up the first lab and Oh, but the long walk down here had made her awfully warm. Perhaps taking off her outer robes might cool her off a bit. She smirked and laid the black wool across the back of her normal chair, turning to look at her reflection in an ingredient cabinet's glass door.

He'd implied her skirt bothered him yesterday afternoon, so she was wearing something very similar today. She'd worn a dark purple satin blouse with french cuffs and a black pencil skirt that flared just at the knee so it could show off the flirty flounced hem of her lavender satin slip. The lace top of the slip would show if she would only unbutton the first two buttons of her blouse.

So she did, and went about setting up for the first lab. She'd made it halfway through the worktops when Severus stalked in.

She smiled. Oh, he had perfect timing. She'd just bent over to retrieve a stirstick from the floor and her rear end was perfectly situated towards the door. Slowly, oh so slowly, she stood up and looked back over her shoulder at him, the picture of innocence plastered on her face, and bid him 'Good Morning'.

He looked rather poleaxed for a tiny moment, then recovered. "That would have been a more appropriate sentiment at Breakfast, instead of acting like an inveterate tease." He strode over to his desk and began sorting through some paperwork.

She ignored him and went about her business, albeit as gracefully and sinuously as possible.

She'd just reached the last table when he slammed his hands down and barked, "Are you quite done?"

She immediately paused what she was doing, which was reaching over the worktop with one leg kicked up at the knee. Maintaining her balance in her precarious position with absolute pleasure, she turned her head and blinked at her Potions Master, "I beg your pardon? I was just finishing, but if you need me to do...more...?"

Deliberately misunderstanding him always set his teeth on edge. He looked ready to pop a vein, so she straightened herself and made her way up to his desk.

His mouth opened and closed a few times with a deep scowl across his eyes before he finally spoke, "This is a place of learning and you should be dressed appropriately—"

"But I am dressed appropriately...Severus. Muggle clothing is allowed in the apprenticeship curriculum as long as it's professional."

He glared at her for interrupting him and continued, "Put your robe back on and button your blouse. The fifth years have a hard enough time concentrating on what I try to teach them, and would be severely distracted by your muggle clothing."

She tilted her head, "And you?"

His impressive nostrils flared, "Excuse me?"

"Are you distracted, Professor?" She leaned slightly forward and played with the third button on her blouse, teasing as much as she dared. Her body was heating rapidly and somehow, her use of his title after a full day of calling him by his given name was titillating.

She took mercy on him and as he watched, buttoned up her blouse to the last button at the lapels. He watched her fingers, not her face and it felt a little perverse—and ironic—that the act of doing _up_ her buttons kept his attention.

He'd still not answered her, so she gave him even more mercy and shrugged on her outer robes. His eyes followed her to her seat, only breaking away when the first students started trickling in.

She gave him some version mercy for the rest of the day, keeping her antics for in-between classes. One such time, she merely sat in her seat, situated off to the side of his desk with a small desk of her own, and watched him reset his warning wards for dangerous potions. All was quiet in the dungeons as they had just dismissed everyone for lunch.

It was only the Professor and herself.

Hermione thought over what 'could' happen in any number of possible situations between them and held the cut feather of her quill to her lips, rubbing the fine texture back and forth across them. She was absently staring at him, following his dark-robed form as he busied himself, and as she thought of what could have been had he not been so supercilious yesterday afternoon. He could have brought her down from the step ladder and reached for the cauldron himself, letting her watch his lovely form in action. He could have stopped what he was doing as soon as he caught her staring appreciatively. He could have slowly placed the cauldron on the floor, raking her body with his eyes as he stood back up, inching closer to her...

"Miss Granger!"

She jumped in her seat with a small cry of surprise, bringing her hand to her chest to calm her sputtering heart. "Ye-yes, Professor Snape?"

She slowly looked up to his face, knowing he'd caught her woolgathering when she should have been helping him set up for the next class after lunch.

His jaw was working back and forth, as if chewing on something he wanted to...savor? She blinked and the look was gone. He turned to his desk, "Take yourself off to dinner. Daydreaming doesn't help me, here."

Wasn't he going to lunch? Would he soon follow? She'd wanted to walk with him, as they sometimes did...was he shunning her?

Taking her time to stand, she watched him fiddle with some scrolls of homework, avoiding looking at her completely.

Perhaps she was too forward, today? She'd not been this brazen, before... "All right, Professor. If that's what you want." She couldn't help the slightly uneasy disappointment that filtered through her tone and it caught his attention.

They shared an indescribable look between them for several moments before he looked down and sharply placed a scroll back to the desk.

"I might as well accompany you. Despite your laziness, I'm finished. You might need someone to keep you on track, as it were."

If it hadn't been for his hesitant expression, she might have told him that eight and a half years was plenty of time to remember where the Great Hall was, but...she didn't. As she nodded and walked with him silently upstairs, it was all she could do not to grin darkly at the realization that she really had gotten to him.

Oh, what plans she could make for this man! She behaved herself at dinner, only occasionally moving to brush a hand or a knee against his own. Each time that happened, he froze in place for perhaps two seconds, then when she did no more, continued with his plate.

She wasn't being good because she was backing down. Oh, no. She was being good because she was busy planning what sort of torment she could give him this afternoon, at her practicum. Perhaps after a morning of mischief, he needed a respite to remind him the difference.

She smiled at that and sipped her tea. He was watching her. She knew he was because he froze again, without her touching him, and didn't resume eating until she gained control of her face.

Soon enough, the bell for end of luncheon rang and she excused herself. She heard his chair move after hers and knew he followed her every step of the way. She made sure he had a good show by taking off her outer robes again.

/

Boxes arrived for her at lunchtime via her floo and she inspected the items inside after classes. Checking everything off her list, she decided to kill the next bit of time before practicum by checking up on the twins.

Throwing floo powder into the flames, she called out for the joke shop and stuck her head in. "Fred? George? Are you there? It's Hermione."

Nothing happened, so she called out again. "Hello? Hello-oo?"

A twin popped into her field of vision, "Hi there! Sorry to keep you, but it's a madhouse up front. Everyone's spending their gift certificates from Christmas."

She smiled at him, "I won't stay long, I just wanted to find out your progress on our little project."

"Never fear, little bookish sister, we have a product just perfect for you. We just need to get in and sabotage the food. Winky still owes us for sneaking her butterbeers, so the food part should be easy. Can you get us in?"

"Oh, of course, I'm sure the headmaster will be more than happy to help you help me." She nearly gagged. Albus probably would be happy to help, she just had to couch her request the right way. "And if not, there's always that not-so-secret tunnel under Honeyduke's."

"That there is. When do you plan on starting?"

"I want everyone inebriated by eight o'clock when I plan on hopping out of that ridiculous cake."

"Alright, six o'clock it is, then—" He was interrupted by the sounds of a mild scuffle at the sales counter. "That'll be my signal. See you tomorrow."

"Bye."

Kneeling back into her room, she coughed up a tiny bit of ash and Scourgified herself. It would never do for Severus to see her covered in floo-ash. She went to check on her hair and left for her practicum.

/

She had completely and utterly killed him this morning. He was desperate for a moment's peace and was thankful he had an hour free between his last class and that blasted practicum with Hermione.

Two hours of alone time with that...that minx! He shut the door behind him and strode to his bathroom, reaching for a hand cloth and running it under the cold water. Once it was drenched, he wrung it out and pressed the coolness against his forehead, then his neck.

The awful thing was, even this felt sensual after a day exposed to her blatant sexuality. Once she got the bit between her teeth, she ran at a full gallop and it was surprising. She hadn't even backed down when he'd accused her of being a tease, or berated her for her unprofessional clothing.

And he didn't care what the rules said, her clothing should be considered unprofessional. There was a reason muggle clothing wasn't common among the wizarding populace, and that was the remaining Victorian sentiment that men's and women's bodies should be completely covered except in the bedroom. Children were always exceptions, but once he'd seen her in her favored muggle blouse and skirt, she was obviously no child.

Just the fact that he could see her calves was stridently sexual, and then her undergarments? Merlin, just the thought of the slips she started wearing was sending his cock back up again.

His heart raced as he realized he was deciding to masturbate to visions of Hermione right before her practicum, something he only ever allowed himself to do in the dead of night and even then, he tried valiantly to keep the occurrences as low as possible.

Severus dithered over this decision, wanting so badly to just relieve himself of this pent up frustration. It was not a good idea to have her on his mind like this, but he was never going to get through these next two hours with this kind of immediacy between his legs, and so decided to do something about it.

As he released the mental barrier that marked his emotions for his apprentice, visions of her flooded his brain. He sighed and closed his eyes, dropping the hand cloth into the basin. He brushed both hands down the front of his coat and lifted the hem to gain access to his trousers. First his belt was undone, then the buttons—always buttons—and next was the parting in his pants. He sucked in a sharp breath as his cool hand pulled out his cock and exhaled that breath with a shudder when that hand wrapped around it firmly.

He started a slow pull and fell back against the wall, thinking about Hermione spread across his bed in her little satin slip.

In his mind, her hands slid up from her hips, up the dip of her waist, to cup her breasts, enjoying the feel of the slick fabric beneath her fingers. Her nipples hardened and were just about to peek over the low neckline as a tiny strap dropped from her shoulder. She held the fabric up over her breasts and threw her head back in passion.

That movement brought the tip of one lusty nipple out from behind the satin and he shuddered again, working his cock and lubricating it with his generous pre-ejaculate. There was always a lot, especially when he allowed himself to think about her, but this time, he was harder, hotter and wanted her more.

She'd teased him relentlessly over the past two days and he thought back to her on the step stool yesterday. He could have come up behind her, pushed up her skirt and reveled in that slip over her lovely, round buttocks. He could have run his fingers up under that slip to find her soft thighs and melting curves. Just the thought of her in his hands like that sent him faster, hurtling along the path to completion.

He thought of her, this morning, daring to slip her hand on his thigh at the high table. What if she'd reached a little higher, a little more?

What if, when he'd found her bent over in his classroom, he'd walked up behind her and pulled that delicious rear end into his cock, then pushed her into the worktop in front of her before sliding his hands up her sides to wrap themselves around her...perfect...breasts...

He came with a shout, shooting cum wherever his cock wanted. It didn't matter, nothing mattered except this feeling. His sack pulsed and sent an overwhelming feeling of release through his body as he finished.

He felt dizzy...

He slid down the wall to slump on the floor, quickly adjusted himself out of the way of his trousers and panted loudly into the bathroom. His foot slid out towards the toilet, but he didn't care.

He just enjoyed this brief moment of peace.

* * *

A/N: **Pants** Whoo! That was fun. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Cya tomorrow, my lovelies! Thanks again for all the wonderful encouragement! ;)


	7. Chapter 7

Oh I really hope you like where I'm going with this ;) Sometimes I wonder if I'm a bit of a sadist, but if I'm a writer, then that automatically makes me a Masochist... Either way, I hope you enjoy my musings :D It's the longest one yet!

* * *

Chapter 7

He was late.

He was never late.

He was late.

Why?

Did she push him too far? Was he angry with her? She paced around the lab, gathering materials for her expected assignment, Blood-Replenishing Potion.

She'd just set up to begin fifteen minutes later when he swept through the door. They both stopped what they were doing and stared at each other, she in surprise, he in...

Embarrassment?

He blushed. Severus _blushed_ at the sight of her and stalked over to his own workstation.

She looked down at her cauldron, then back to him, perplexed. Perhaps she could get him to talk about it?

"Running late?"

He slammed a cauldron down, "Obviously."

Well that didn't work. She tried again, "Bad day?"

His hands stilled as he tensed and turned to glare at her, "If I had a bad day, whose fault would that be, _Miss Granger_?"

Miss Granger...Her face fell and she turned back to her workstation. She had pushed him too far. Tomorrow night was going to be awkward and he would most likely hex her before dancing with her. She watched her solution rise to a boil before adding in the granulated iron.

Several minutes passed in silence with only the occasional sound of him collecting his own ingredients and their brewing.

His voice rang out into the quiet room, making it more harsh than she'd heard in a very long time, "What, no striptease to ensnare my senses? No verbal foreplay to bewitch my mind?"

His sarcastic tone was enough to push her from anxiety to anger. She slammed her stirring stick down to the counter and turned to face him. "Do you wish for me to withdraw? I don't have to do this, you know." When he didn't reply, she continued with more barbs aimed to strike at his ego, "If you wanted your little birthday present so badly as to have someone else ask it for you, then why are you being such a complete burk at a free preview?" She finished her little confrontation with her hands on her hips.

Magic crackled through the room with his anger as he struggled to restrain himself, "How _dare_ you! You act like a common trollop and then blame me when I act like a civilised man?" His face was tight and sneering as he stepped towards her.

She scoffed, "A trollop would have done a lot more than I did, I promise you that. All I've done is dress nicely and dropped a few innuendos, but I suppose an uptight wizard like yourself would find that overly provocative."

"Yes! I do! I find it offensive that you think you can wriggle your arse at me any time of the day. I am a teacher, for Merlin's sake. I demand respect and at least some degree of peace from someone who is supposed to be helping me."

"_Offensive_?" She yanked up her skirt a few inches and showed off her lavender flounces, "You find _this_ offensive?"

Despite him stepping even closer, despite her holding her skirt up for him to see it, he would not look down to her slip. Instead he concentrated on her face and snarled, "It is inappropriate for the working environment. Clothing such as that should be reserved for the bedroom."

Her left eyebrow arched, "Oh, so if I show you a little leg in your _bedroom_, you'll be fine with it?"

"Yes—NO!"

He looked panicked. She verbally pounced, "Aha!"

"I mean, 'No'!"

They were closing the gap between them and were standing but a pace away from each other. He scowled and continued, "I meant to say that it is the appropriate place, not that—"

She was quickly gaining on him and his slip-ups. She smiled darkly up at him, "Your bedroom is the appropriate place for me to show off?"

He stared her down as their breathing calmed, obviously looking for the right way to answer her. Either she had been finishing his sentence or making a suggestion. He could support or refute her suggestion, even make a neutral claim to her finishing his sentence...

Something changed in his expression the moment before he uttered, "Yes," and pulled her to him for a devouring kiss.

She nearly cried with happiness and her heart was ready to race along the _Circuit de Monaco_. Her arms wound around his shoulders as she pulled herself flush up against his hard body. He kissed divinely, with lovely firm lips that pressed, rubbed, nipped and nibbled until her tongue delicately licked his upper lip.

He backed his head away for only a moment to give her a look of surprise before dipping back down to take her mouth in a deeper exploration. He tasted of almonds...

A loud splurt garnered their attention as both his and her potions ran amok. They sprang apart to vanish the ruined solutions with their wands. She flicked off her burner and waited for him to say something. Anything.

She heard him inhale and exhale slowly in the quiet lab.

The hard leather soles of his shoes struck loudly against the stone floor and when she looked up, he was beside her again, holding out his hand to her.

She blinked, then slipped her fingers into his warm hand and looked back up to his face.

He looked almost upset, resigned.

Was he going to make her leave?

His mouth opened and her eyes locked onto it hungrily, but he spoke with a collected voice, "Would you care for some tea...Hermione?"

Yes, her practicum was rather botched for the day, so she saw no need for them to continue there, but he was offering her _tea_? He kissed her like that and then formally offers her tea, as if he were merely her professor?

If he hadn't used her given name, she just might have refused out of sheer obstinacy, but his expression was growing anxious.

Anxious...Well, she couldn't have that. It had taken him far too long to kiss her in the first place.

She took a small breath and answered, "Yes, please."

He nodded and led her out of the room with her hand tucked through his bent arm, rather formally. It was rather sweet, actually. They stepped into his parlor and he threw a pinch of floo powder into his fire as she took her seat.

"The Kitchens."

A small elf head popped into the green flame and blinked in fear up at Severus. He looked down to its unspoken query and responded, "Tea."

The elf looked from him to Hermione and nodded, then left the flame to burn orange again.

Severus turned to the room and saw she'd sat in her usual chair, the one with green leather that belonged in a pub. He gave one cursory look to his favored seat across from her, then chose to occupy the wooden chair to her right.

The tea tray-bearing elf popped into the room as soon as Severus sat down and left the tray on the simple wooden butler's table between them.

At the sound of the elf's departing snap, Severus looked from her to the tray. He seemed to be confused about how to do this, so she, once again, took mercy.

"I would assume you take your tea black, but assumptions can be dangerous things." She poured the brew into the cup closest to him and then her own.

He lifted the cup to his nose and took a breath of the tea's scent. "Lemon, please." He held out his cup to her and she slid a lemon slice into his tea with the tiny tongs provided. She drank her tea black, without changing what it was meant to taste like.

They took their first sips in silence, looking every so often at each other rather shyly. The tension in the room was palpable and she was growing increasingly tired of it. Only moments ago, they'd been down each other's throats and now they couldn't sit and drink tea together without awkwardness.

When he cleared his throat but didn't say anything, she sighed and put her tea cup down. "You know? I think this is a bit ridiculous. We're adults." She stood up and stepped in front of him, took his tea and sat it down on the tray. He blinked at her, seemingly at a loss for what to do. Well, since he took up most of the chair's seat and the chair had no arms, the best way for her to proceed would be...hmm.

She placed her hands on his shoulders and leaned down to slowly taste the tea from his mouth. She tasted bergamot on his tongue and slid her hands up to hold the sides of his face. The angle was strange and her back was starting to ache, but she didn't want to stop, not when he was letting her do this, so she stepped one leg daringly outside of his, then the other and straddled his lap to sit on him.

His hands immediately went to the bunched skirt at her bottom and played with the different fabrics gathered there. Eventually, they crept up enough to expose her slip to him and she could feel the heat of his hands on her bum as hot as the heat from his lap beneath her.

She moaned into his mouth at the feel of his hands on the satin of her slip. It was an erotic sensation, the way he played along the hidden lines of her knickers and cupped large handfuls of satin and buttocks in his grasp. His kiss became frenzied when his hand slipped down her leg and felt the top of her stockings. He pulled her hips into his tightly and groaned his passion, playing with the suspenders that helped hold her stockings up.

When his fingers skimmed bare flesh, she canted back with a cry and rolled her hips into him, pulling her shoes to their toes against the floor.

He stopped.

She took a shaky breath and looked down at him. "What is it?"

He stared at her with such a torn look on his face,

"Darling, what is it?" Her hands caressed his face along his cheeks, his jaw, down to his neck. "Have I—"

"Get up."

She looked at him in confusion, "Have I done something wrong?"

He pushed at her hips and watched her untangle herself from him. Her skirt fell on its own, but she had to pull her blouse back to rights. His eyes watched her greedily, and she'd felt his wonderful interest beneath her while she straddled him, so what was wrong?

"Sit down, please."

She bit her lip, wanting only to go back to kissing him—

"Please, Hermione." He gestured to her seat and she acquiesced. He took the opportunity to straighten his own clothes, then took a sip of his tea.

She looked down to her own cup, but couldn't make herself drink it.

"I don't know what you want." It was all she could think of to say.

He set his cup down and took a moment before he spoke.

"I want to make this as plain as I can. You—I'm not a man tempted by casual pleasures."

She blinked and looked at him, eyebrows dipping slowly, willing him to continue but not sure if she would like it.

"I'm not _open_, I'm not _social_..." He looked helplessly at her as if she could give him the right words, but she wasn't about to take over this revelation, "I'm not...into...flings."

His eyes were very carefully trying to convey something to her and she had the instinct that it wasn't for her to bugger off. He seemed to be having a hard time of saying...what she hoped he was saying.

He continued, "If we...proceed in this manner...I would like for us to go slowly. There need not be any rush."

Her eyebrows shot up at this statement, wondering just what he meant by that, but also giddy that he did want to continue down the path they'd started.

She smiled at him, tentatively, "Are you sure about tomorrow night, then? I don't want to give away the surprise, but...I imagine the word would be '_outr__é_'."

His eyebrows took their turn running for his hairline and his eyes glittered in the afternoon light filter. He adjusted his seat in the uncomfortable chair and took another sip of his tea. He seemed to be pondering something of great importance and it didn't seem to be what type of outfit she'd be wearing.

He looked like he was swallowing something distasteful. She could only watch him and ask herself, _Why_?

After he was done pontificating, he responded obliquely, "I would like to see you do this _small_ _thing_ for me at my birthday celebration."

She frowned. Small thing? He'd emphasized that her little show was to be a _small thing_, both with voice and eyes. She frowned and thought through the things that could be small about this. Either he was a little kinkier than she expected and didn't think a song and dance could be provocative or...she just might have gotten something wrong along the way...

Like something rather obvious that she thought was a kept secret between her and Minerva.

Her eyes narrowed onto his slightly guilty face as she realized what exactly a small thing would be in reference to herself. "This is about my animagus, isn't it?" He looked away, confirming her suspicions. "Minerva was to keep that quiet, but apparently she doesn't know how." No wonder Minerva was looking at her so strangely. She'd been near to laughter at Hermione's inaccurate supposition. Her gaze darkened and focused on Severus, again, "Albus knows I'm a rabbit?"

He looked ready to choke on something, but responded, "I...believe so, yes."

"And when did you find out?"

His eyes slid away from hers, "Through the grapevine."

She snorted derisively, "You mean Minerva told Rolanda, who can't keep her bloody mouth shut, either."

"Hermione—"

She cut him off with a look. "Have I been making a fool of myself? Are all the staff laughing at me?" She remembered Pomona's rocking cackle and cringed.

He jumped to correct her, "No! No one is laughing at you. I rather think they wanted to get a laugh over on me, actually."

She pinned him with another look. "And you were going to let me..." Her voice rose in incredulity, "You don't even know how I interpreted Albus' hare-brained scheme, do you?"

He shook his head in denial, watching her carefully.

She stood up, slightly indignant. It was not missed on her that he'd tried to warn her before she went through with this debacle. Still, he could have told her two nights ago when she first came to him.

Unless he wanted her to do this...her way...

Her resolve solidified. If the staff could dabble in her personal affairs like this, then they were all going to watch her have the last laugh when she showed them her interpretation of a rabbit hopping out of a cake and then had her own over on them. Oh, yes, she knew exactly what to do about this. She'd have them all by the toenails, soon enough.

She was going to show them all right, as well as have herself a bit of fun. She could see herself making them all very, very uncomfortable with this. Well, except for Rolanda. Hardly anything phased her.

"All right then. I think it best for me to go, now."

He grabbed her hand as she stepped by him and she looked down to his face. It was full of anxiety, confusion...maybe even a little insecurity. She softened to him and squeezed his hand reassuringly as she leaned over to kiss his lips. Oh, it was going to be so hard to keep from doing that at anytime of the day, now. "Don't worry. We'll both show them all it's best not to mess with someone else's private affairs. They may not like the results." She winked at him and smiled, he brought her hand up to his mouth and kissed her knuckles warmly.

She uncurled her fingers from his hand, caressed a finger across his chin, then left.

She had some fitting to do on her costume for tomorrow and now, she had a little gift to design for her meddling colleagues.

Oh she would show them all right. She would remind them exactly what happens when they poke at a Gryffindor. Bold and Brash weren't just pretty words.

* * *

Dun-dun-dunh! Did you like it? What do you think she's up to? Muahaha! Xoxo Dena


	8. Chapter 8

Thank you all so much for your wonderful reviews and words of encouragement! Every single one makes me smile :D See?

* * *

Chapter 8

The excitement and anxiety of tomorrow night wore on Hermione's nerves and kept her awake well into the wee hours of night. Her costumes were finished, the simple routine was laid out and her music was keyed to her wand. Her revenge was neatly planned and practiced and all she really had to do was figure out what she could get Severus for his birthday present. No matter how much he needed a new potions journal, it just wasn't as personal as she needed to be, now.

She fell asleep to thoughts of what would be the best gift to give a man who really needed for nothing.

It was at the point of lucid dreaming, those last moments before awakening fully, that Hermione had her inspiration.

She dreamed of their last encounter in his parlor, with her astride his hips on that wooden chair. Only, instead of him pushing her away, he continued. His delicious hands slid under her suspenders on her right leg, gripping her hip and thigh with a hot, kneading hold. She dropped back down from crying out, only to stare into his abyssal eyes and rock into his erection, her toes straining on the floor to pull her forward.

Back and forth, she rubbed herself along his length and his free hand slipped up her bottom, over the bunched up skirt, up her side and around her satin blouse to cup her breast with a deep, gravelly groan.

His breath still smelled of bergamot, with a citrusy bite and she smiled.

Her riding of him continued harder and more pressing. He reached up with his mouth to devour her own in an erotically hungry and flavored kiss that sent little flutters through her stomach, down into her pelvis and deeper, all the way to her clitoris.

She moaned and went wild on him, biting his lower lip, then running her teeth against his cheek. It was all she could do to hold breath in her lungs and then his hand traveled from her breast to the buttons on her blouse, deftly undoing them one by one. He mouthed his way down her throat, not even kissing or licking, just running his open mouth and letting his hot breath tantalize her skin. Once the blouse was undone, he pushed it off one shoulder and kissed her collarbone, then pulled the slip's and her brassier's straps off that same shoulder. His fingers spread over the upper swell of her breast and then swept firmly downward to release it from the confines of her lingerie.

She cried out with an open mouth, her eyes rolling back in her head with bliss as his calloused palm brushed back and forth across her puckered nipple. That fluttering sensation at her clit increased and she helplessly rode against his trousers, seeking some form of end to this desperation.

His lips played with the soft skin of her chest, slowly making his way down to...Oh, God, YES!—

Her alarm made a disgusting appearance and woke her up at a very unfortunate time.

"Buggering fucker son of a bitch!" She flicked the alarm off with her wand and flopped back down to her pillows in frustration. What an awful time for responsibility to kick in! She swished a tempus charm and wondered if she had enough time to release this tension...Hmm, maybe...

The sheets did feel good, causing friction between their fine cotton and the satin of her nightgown. Her fingers slipped under the covers and she groaned as they made contact with her needy breasts. She writhed on the bed and let her hands wander down, down, downwards to pull up the edge of her gown. She never bothered wearing knickers to sleep, so her fingers immediately found what they were looking for.

She gasped at how absolutely wet she was and thought back to that fantastic dream. Severus could be so meticulous, so careful and controlled, he could be nothing but masterful in bed.

All of a sudden, she had a vision of his dark hair hanging in twin curtains about his head as he arched above her in ecstasy. She could imagine his mouth opened in passion...his cock thick and full, separating her labia and opening her up so completely. Her free hand roamed down her body to slip behind her thigh and pull on her left cheek. She shuddered at the sensation of her quim being pulled open like this and let her right hand speed up, pushing down from her clit into her wet lips.

Her dream-Severus sped up with her movements and tossed his head back in abandon. She could imagine his taut chest and arms, strong and tight, moving above her in the best rhythm.

So close, so close, more, more, More!

She called out her release to the room and imagined dream-Severus coming with her.

Everything went limp as the most delicious pulses rode her body from her quim, outwards. She sighed and thought she should do that more often.

"Mmm."

Reluctantly, she gathered herself together and made her way to the bathroom to prepare for her day. She thought about what to get Severus for a proper gift and realized the scent of his mouth was still in her mind. She smirked and realized that would be a perfect gift: a bergamot scented cologne.

That should be easy to find if she just took a quick jaunt to Edinburgh. She didn't have time to make it for him. Perhaps next year.

She slipped on a pair of denims and a jumper, thinking she could ask Albus about letting the twins in at the same time as asking for permission to leave the grounds.

/

She wasn't here.

He'd awoken with the urgent need to see her, remind her of their connection yesterday afternoon, perhaps even ask her to accompany him to breakfast, but she wasn't here.

He'd used the Point-Me spell down in the dungeons and in the Great Hall, then even lowered himself to ask Hagrid on the premise that he needed her help in the laboratory today but the half-giant responded with a confused look on his face,

"Didnya know she lef' fer Edinborough? Perfessor Dumbledore knows all abou' it. Said she'd be back fer tonight, but she'd be gone most of tha day lookin fer a gift—I shouldna said that." Hagrid shook his head and toddled off, muttering regrets to himself and his hound.

Severus glared at the beast, spun on his heel and stormed all they way back to his rooms, ignoring breakfast and instead ordering tea.

The bergamot scent wafted through his senses and he closed his eyes, leaning back in his seat to savor the memory. He nearly hated himself for stopping her, but having her sit astride him was driving him to the edge and he needed to maintain his sanity desperately. He knew it was important to proceed at a proper pace with her, but by Dagda that woman was his own personal hedonistic fantasy come to life.

He took a cup of tea over to his desk and buried himself in marking. Perhaps that could keep him occupied until she returned.

/

"Miss Granger, you can have no idea the delight it gives me to see you put forward so much effort for Severus' birthday celebration."

She grit her teeth and bit back a retort, nodding instead and making her way down to the kitchens carrying her costumes shrunken into a satchel. He could bloody-well take what he could get for a response.

He continued, blithely, "In the tradition of good sportsmanship, I have let your cohorts in to wreak their havoc. I shall certainly look forward to tonight's entertainment with those two involved."

They reached the portrait with the ticklish pear and she turned to the headmaster. "I should probably say something sportsmanlike in return, but honestly Professor, I'm—" _don't do it, you need this position, don't do it,_ "trying to remember everything I've got planned. I'm sure you understand."

His deadpan look over the edge of his spectacles left her with the idea that he did, indeed, understand. He turned away, tickled the pear for her, and started walking away. Before he stepped five paces, however, he turned around, "I wish you good luck, Miss Granger. Judging from the way you've been guarding your satchel, I'd say we and Severus are in for an interesting performance."

She smiled curtly and stepped into the portrait, pulling it tight behind her before responding, "You bet you are, you meddling old man."

With that, she looked to the nearest house elf. 'Bort' was embroidered on his tea towel and he regarded her and her satchel with hesitancy. She gave him a rather more genuine smile than that she had given the Professor, "Can you show me where the cake is for Professor Snape's birthday party?"

He deflated a little bit in relief, she supposed, and motioned for her to follow him deeper into the kitchen. That couldn't possibly be the cake, could it? She was following the elf to a creation that was an amazing two hundred centimeters tall. She could easily stand up in that thing if it were completely hollow inside. When they reached the gigantic confection, she looked at it in concern. "How will I ever get up there, Bort?"

He looked at her as if she were rather dense, "Elves will magic the Clothes-Hider in." She glared at the elf at the mention of her apparent nick-name. Honestly, she'd not knitted in ages! He continued, "She will be able to open the cake from the inside and step out like stairs."

She blinked at him, "What is the incantation?"

"Nothing, she only taps her wand on the inside."

"How will I know I'm facing the right direction?"

Bort only sneered at her, "Elves know."

Well. So much for her efforts. She looked around and asked, "Is there a place I can change into my costumes?"

He started walking away, "Elves don't care about nakedness. Change here."

She watched him march off like an indignant child, then looked back at the huge cake. Perhaps she could simply step behind it. No matter what the elf said about not caring, she _did_. Plus, Albus said the twins were loose somewhere in the castle. Good thing she'd already worn her first costume under her robes.

She set her satchel down and pulled out each piece, looking over the wrinkles and enlarging them to their proper size. She steamed out the wrinkles, then disrobed.

She felt almost naked, but extremely sexy in this outfit. First came the black ruffled shorts that barely covered her bum, then the matching black and green satin brocade corset that she had to magic on.

And oh, great goddess, did that feel good...It was like a gigantic hug and she shrugged her shoulders back for the right posture. She smirked at the sight of the top of her breasts sitting out like a tray of canapés.

Care for an _hors d'oeuvre,_ Professor Snape?

She snickered to herself and looked down at her legs.

She'd magicked her suspenders to her stockings and to top it all off, wore glittery green shoes. She'd finished her first costume with long black, satin gloves and now placed a charm to her head to add black bunny ears.

"Hermione?"

She spun around in fear and caught the twins looking at her in something akin to shock. "Y-yes?"

"Is that what you're—"

"—Yeah, is it?"

They looked at each other in amused confusion and then back to Hermione. "Um...yeah?" She looked from them to the second costume. "Actually, could the two of you help me into the last bit?"

They looked at each other again, grinned and turned back to her with an ecstatic, "Yes!"

She smiled perhaps a tad bit too evilly for they hesitated before coming completely around the cake to see her other costume—or rather, her over-costume—laying on the floor. Once they did see it, however, they both broke into helpless laughter and went to give her a high-five.

"That's our adopted sister!"

"We taught her well!"

Their howls of laughter continued as they helped her into an adult sized rabbit costume, much like what one would wear to be the Easter Bunny.

She grinned and giggled through the entire episode but when she was done, she batted with her overly large paws, "Shoo! Go spike the food or something. Bort?"

That disdainful elf appeared before her as the boys scuttled off and looked up at her fake rabbit head in something close to confused fear.

"It's all right, Bort, it's just a costume. I'm ready to go in the cake."

After clearly trying not to mutter under his breath, he raised his hands and snapped both fingers.

She found herself inside the magically expanded interior of the cake and immediately looked for the place to tap her wand that would let her out.

"Is the Clothes-Hider comfortable?"

She sighed, found the switch-spot, and responded, "Yes, Bort, I'm fine."

"Her cue is at the end of the birthday song."

"Thank you, got it."

At that, she heard another snap and felt the cake being levitated. Good gracious, their magic had to be powerful to pull off something like all this without a wand.

* * *

That's it for tonight, my dears! Thank you for reading ;) You know what's coming next, but how will it happen? ;) I'd love to read your speculations, but don't worry, it's already written and waiting in the wings for tomorrow night. Xoxo Dena


	9. Chapter 9

Don't hate me. My apologies for not having this up at 8 like I told some people I would. RL has a way of beating us about the head, n'est-ce pas? I hope you enjoy your cake! Xoxo Dena

* * *

Chapter 9

He both hated and loved this all at the same time. Everyone seemed genuinely happy to celebrate his birthday in the same fashion they did every other staff members', but he hated being the center of attention by force of habit and on general purpose. Being the center of attention in his life was always painful or dangerous, so it was difficult to let go enough to where he looked confident and relaxed.

That and these people were entirely too giddy for his comfort. It made his skin crawl, the cheerfulness that they exuded. He usually made it his mission to take the wind out of their sails at least once a day.

He was just glad it was only his colleagues and not a brat in sight. Albus had actually locked and warded the doors against them, thank Merlin. The little heathens only had Filch and his cat to control their hordes tonight.

At a signal from Albus, the food and drink arrived, however moot the drink was. Every staff member had their own special concoction they were sipping from. Albus had—typical—a lemon drop martini. Minerva had something akin to a mojito but Severus suspected it was laced with the catnip form of mint. She had a ridiculously glazed look to her eyes. He couldn't tell what Rolanda was sampling in her flask, or what bubbly concoction Filius drank, but as he looked around the table and eyed their drinks, each staff member was apparently rather set on getting pissed.

Did they have to get _pissed_ in order to enjoy his birthday?

He frowned and drank his 'whiskey' before tucking into something that looked like a cheese and spinach flan. He rather enjoyed flan, with its simple flavors and easily detectable ingredients.

As he brought his fork up to his mouth, he caught a whiff of something that made him pause. He backed the utensil away and sniffed the portion of food, then lifted the small plate to his nose and sniffed again.

There was something in this that wasn't supposed to be...

He looked around at his table mates incredulously. Did they _seriously_ think they could drug a Potions Master, much less one as paranoid as himself?

When he saw that everyone was heartily digging into their own portions, he looked back down to his plate and cried out, "Have you all gone _mad_?"

He threw his fork down to the table. "Elf!"

The staff finally looked up at his barking command and the elf popped into view, "Yes, Professor Snape?"

"Get me something to eat that isn't _tainted_ with improper ingredients. And do _not_ serve me anything otherwise."

It nodded and snapped off to the kitchens. A moment later, a new flan replaced his old one and after careful sniffing, he finally bit in.

A squeaky voice interrupted his mastication, "Is the spinach off?" He turned to respond to Filius' inquiry when he heard Vector and Sinistra's conversation.

"I had no idea that conk of his was so useful."

Aurora elbowed Septima with a wink, "Oh, I'm sure it's _useful_ for other things."

He leaned over and glared at the stupid cows, "Are you quite finished?"

They just cackled and drank from their oddly shaped glasses, continuing their own conversation.

Ridiculous. Did no one even care why he ordered a new dish? Hmm. Perhaps he'd done this one too many times before...

He leaned forward to speak across Rolanda, "No, Filius, the spinach wasn't off. Someone has added something to the mix."

The flying instructor just barked a laugh and kept eating as the little man observed his plate, "Oh." His white, bushy eyebrows gathered together, then smoothed apart, "Well, I'm sure it was whatever was needed to make it taste better. I've never had flan this good."

Severus looked at Filius as if he were insane, but he was tucking into his first course with gusto. Far be it from him if every one of these idiots wanted to poison themselves. He knew from previous discussions the elves would never let something deadly into the mix, so he satisfied himself to wait and see what exactly this new ingredient did to his colleagues.

The rest of supper went by almost uneventfully, save for the staff beginning to squirm in their seats. Albus was even having a hard time sitting still and it was he that motioned for the cake to come in, "Perhaps after cake we can have dancing?"

That was met by a resounding 'Yes!' except for Severus' plaintive 'NO!' They just laughed and started singing to him as the elves floated the cake in. His heart sped up and he looked to Rolanda. She was watching the cake with avid interest in her yellow eyes as she sang with the others.

Great Merlin, that cake was huge! It came to a stop at least three meters away from the High Table and still loomed too tall.

The song came to an end and...nothing. He blinked and looked around to see if perhaps Hermione had decided not to enter the cake at all and he realized he really _didn't_ have a clue as to what she had planned.

The music cued and everyone took to looking around the room. Wasn't Hermione supposed to be in the cake? Maybe she decided to come in from the staff room. He listened and thought if she was trying to pull off something nefarious, this was not the music to do it to. It was something like a young girl's music box or a lullaby and a vaguely familiar voice started reciting...poetry?

_I've posed for pictures with ivory soap_

_I've petted stray dogs and shied clear of dope_

_My smile is brilliant, my glance is tender_

_But I'm noted most for my unspoiled gender_

Just as the recitation was speaking of something to do with modeling but never drinking beer, the entire front of the cake opened up as if a giant slice had been taken out...and out stepped...

Hermione in a rabbit costume? She looked ridiculous. His eyes flared and the rest of the staff started chuckling. Rolanda elbowed him, "Ante up, old man."

He tore his eyes away from the rabbit prancing about to such virginal limericks as he reached into his robes for a rather reduced amount of money in comparison with what Hooch was likely expecting.

She felt the bag of coin and then looked in, "You scheister! What is this?"

"Twenty quid. Since that is a muggle term, you should be familiar with the exchange rate."

"Sneaky bastard! I'll let you get away with this since it's your—_now_ what's she doing?"

Severus' head snapped back to Hermione at Rolanda's exclamation.

Hermione had taken off her rabbit head and showed off her rather realistic black rabbit ears sprouting out the top of her head. She then started to unzip the front of the suit as soon as the lyrics said she was 'tired of being pure', then as the music sped up, she stepped out of the suit...

Rolanda handed the money back to him with a gaping mouth, "We're even."

She sounded almost as shocked as he was. Hermione was in an absolutely sinful outfit, with a corset and ruffles and satin gloves and-and-and...Severus thought he might be getting lightheaded with all the blood rushing away from his brain.

He looked to the left to try and focus on something that didn't make him unbearably hard and eager to yank her out of the Hall.

Hagrid looked like he was trying to look away, but couldn't. Aurora and Septima were...his eyebrows lifted. They were entirely too interested in Hermione's latest outfit for his tastes. Filius was tucking into the next course of gazpacho, ignoring everything but his food, and he already knew Rolanda was rolling in her seat, she was laughing so hard.

To his right, Albus looked pointedly between Hermione and him with eyebrows waggling. He glared, ignored him and looked to Minerva. That cat was grinning as if she'd eaten a canary while she sipped her soup. Pomona was laughing just as much as Rolanda and he really didn't care what Sybill's reaction was. She was hiding behind Pomona, anyway.

The music caught his attention at a fast transition and he looked back at Hermione. She was so decadently sexy as she flounced up to the table and lip-synced with the song. The music alone was just...perfectly her. Innocent and tempting, delightfully sweet and sexy...

_I want to be evil_

_I want to spit tacks_

_I want to be evil_

_and cheat at jacks_

_I wanna be wicked_

_I wanna tell lies_

_I wanna be mean_

_and throw mud pies_

He became nervous as she sauntered around to the seats at the head table and made her way past each stiff member—oh shite, _staff_ member, he meant _staff_ member. Bloody hell, he was going to be dead before this was through.

She hugged Hagrid, who immediately blushed a deep scarlet, then moved to muss Poppy's hair. She was batted away from the healer and laughed, then pranced a bit and knocked Aurora's hat off her head before touching hers and Septima's shoulders in a light caress. His eyes narrowed at their exchanged glances, but it was when she reached around Filius' neck and untied his cravat that Severus started to get angry.

How dare she show herself off like this? Didn't they have an agreement? She was his, and not to be put on display like this.

Then again, she did give him warning and said she would make them all pay.

He thought they weren't exactly paying as much as he was, though. She completely skipped him after tweaking Rolanda's nose and went to the other end of the table.

Minerva actually handed Hermione her hat and the brat put it on her head with a grin, but it fell off due to her furry antenae. He noticed that she made sure to touch each of the table's occupants as she pranced passed them... His eye narrowed in speculation. _Why_? What was she up to?

Albus received special attention from her. She grabbed the old man's overlong beard and began fanning herself with it, as if she were too hot. Just when he was sure he'd seen a rather irritated gleam in the headmaster's eyes, Hermione leaned forward, put both hands to his cheeks and kissed his forehead, leaving a large red imprint of her lips behind.

Albus, being the gentleman that he supposedly was, laughed it off and left her lipstick on his forehead, though he made a visible attempt to move out of her range.

She laughed and continued up the line, prancing, poking and dancing her way back to him just as the next verse came to a crescendo,

_And whatever I've got, _

_I'm eager to lose_

She swung into his lap in the headmaster's chair and his hands came up automatically to hold her.

_I want to be evil_

_little evil me_

She winked at him, grabbed his face between her gloved hands, and kissed him on the mouth. The music came to its closure but he had no idea what it said. His blood was boiling, and for several reasons.

She was kissing him, passionately and in his lap.

She was doing this in public, where any and all could see.

She was dressed like this for _him_. And in _public_.

His mind fought between elation and anger as they kissed until he finally snapped and pulled away from her. He slowly became aware of catcalls and clapping. His face flushed hot and he tried to push her away, but she wouldn't have it.

She clung to him and called out to the room's occupants, "What say we go for a bit of dancing, eh?"

Hermione's suggestion was met entirely too enthusiastically by everyone else on staff and they all jumped out of their seats, searching for someone to dance with as Hermione flicked her wand and a dancing tune started playing around them.

She was still on his lap, but at least everyone else wasn't paying attention. She licked her lips and adjusted a bit, digging her corset boning into his stomach. He grunted in response, especially since that same move had rubbed her thigh against his cock.

"What about you, Severus?"

He blinked, trying to find an answer to whatever her question was supposed to be.

She trailed a finger across his shoulder, "Dance with me?"

Amazingly, he found it almost difficult to say, "No."

"Oh, please?" She pouted and blinked up at him and that had him a bit irritated. That was not his Hermione, but the role of some tart— "I went to all this trouble to get them to dance so _you_ would dance with _me_. I planned it all, even before yesterday."

Her mention of their heated encounter had the exact opposite effect she thought it would. He became angry that she would go so far as to, "You _put_ something in the food."

She winced at his growl, "Actually, I didn't. Fred and George did."

"You tried to poison me."

"I did not! I knew you'd figure it out," she adjusted again with her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He pulled back. She glared, "Well, you did!"

"That doesn't excuse the fact that you did it."

"Yes it does! Don't you see? No one is looking at us."

He looked out to the couples dancing, cringed as Sybill awkwardly attempted to cut a rug with Hagrid, and realized Hermione was right, not one person was looking at them. In fact, they were starting to dance about by themselves until they bumped into someone else and then took up paces with them. It didn't matter who it was, what sex they were, or what previously arranged couples he thought he'd known about...they just...danced.

Turning his face back to the vixen in his lap, he asked, "What have you done to them?"

She giggled and watched Poppy push Sybill aside to attempt to reach up and kiss Hagrid, starting a tiff between the two women. It was about then that things rolled a tad bit out of control. Vector, Sinistra and Hooch started cavorting about in a rather indecent manner and Severus got an uneasy feeling up his spine.

It was almost like watching a budding orgy.

There were two shadows shifting near the dancers. Severus' eyes narrowed and watched as the Weasley twins showed themselves, breaking their disillusionment, and avidly started taking notes, "Wicked."

It wasn't until Albus started lifting the hem of his robes higher and higher, showing off his bird-legs next to a strangely avid Filius as he sang outloud and offkey that Severus jumped out of his chair and ran for the door, pulling a laughing Hermione along with him.

What had they done? His colleagues were acting positively uninhibited... He looked down to his cohort and saw the most beautiful smile he'd ever seen on her. She did this. She somehow got them to act crazy and he didn't know how.

"Hermione, please tell me you didn't give me what you gave to them."

Her head spun around to see him. She looked to be contemplating her answer, then smiled, "Well, let's just say you won't see the full effects until tomorrow, when their effects wear off." Her smile turned positively evil and the small hairs on the back of his neck stood up, "After all, tomorrow is your actual birthday, isn't it?"

"Y-yes..." She was almost frightening...He loved it. He watched her with fascination as she took in the gamboling group before them.

He glanced about the room, then back at her. She invited unrepressed chaos into their midst and...she'd done it for him. He blinked. This witch was a wonder.

The rest of the staff, bedamned. Let the boys figure out how to fix this, he had a to take a strumpet to task.

* * *

A/N: The song she performs to is Eartha Kitt's rendition of "I Want to be Evil". Check it out, it's adorable ;) Apparently it's also a burlesque favorite. Flan, on the other hand, is not. ;) British Flan is usually either sweet or savory, rather like American shortcakes in texture, and nothing like the egg custard style of flan. I also HAVE to think the words "Flantasy Flan" whenever I write about that dish, mostly due to a cracked out episode of Courage the Cowardly Dog. Then again, what episode of that wasn't cracked out? ;) Don't worry! I have le hotness coming! ;)


	10. Chapter 10

O.o Please know I hold midgets, dwarves, goblins and anyone of height less than 4' in equal esteem to average height people or taller people. If I offend you, please forgive me. I really, really, really couldn't resist since they're supposed to be 'under the influence', as it were. And I think Filius would have fun with it.

* * *

Chapter 10

He pushed her against the stone wall just outside the Hall doors and bracketed her there with his arms. "Just what do you think you're doing, bringing those buffoons to my birthday party and encouraging them to poison the staff. And what did _you_ do to them? I have half a mind to put that ridiculous rabbit suit back on you and make you wear it all day tomorrow. Speaking of which, how dare you show yourself off in such a..." He couldn't find the words, they were failing him in his distraction. Instead, he gestured with this eyes and a shake of his head.

She offered an unhelpful answer, "Sexy outfit?"

"No! It's too revealing, too..._wrong_ for being out in public!"

She rolled her eyes, "Oh, this argument again."

"What?"

She slid her begloved hands up his chest, up his neck, and into his hair, pulling him down to her level. She murmured into his ear, "If you're so hell-bent on getting me to your bedroom, then why don't you do it? I'm obviously dressed for the occasion."

He glared at her, "You tease. You know why."

She shook her head in all seriousness, "No, sir. A tease has no intention on following through with what...she...starts." Her lips came up to meet his as she talked, stirring his brain into arousal.

He tamped that down with difficulty and backed his head away, "I told you, I wanted to go slowly. I want more from this than a roll in the sheets."

She smiled with a sort of patronizing amusement, "Darling?"

"Mmm?"

She pulled harder on his neck which brought her up to him instead of him down to her and whispered emphatically, "It's. Your. Birthday."

"Not until tomorrow."

She laughed, "But I love you _now_."

He pulled away with surprise sizzling his veins, looking down at her in confusion and regarded her sultry smile, "Now?"

She leaned back against the wall and her smile melted into something more serious...genuine, "And forever."

His heart stuttered and skipped into a heavy tempo as he stared intently at her and came to the realization...she meant it.

She meant it. She loved him. Warmth cascaded through him and before it could complete it's circuit, he dove in and took her mouth, embracing her tightly to him.

She moaned and returned his kisses with fervor.

The doors broke open to the sight of Vector, Sinistra and Hooch all clinging to each other and giggling. The cloud of women turned to each other and started kissing in some impossible way. Hands were positively everywhere. He pulled Hermione further back into the shadows, but couldn't take his eyes from the horrifying sight. There _had_ to be a bad joke in there somewhere...

She whispered into his ear and made him shudder, "I don't think they're going to notice anything but each other right now."

He nodded.

Then he shuddered for a different reason as he heard something from the other room, "Midget Toss!" Severus grew concerned and almost went back in the Hall to rescue Filius from—apparently—Hagrid, when he heard a ridiculous loud squeal of laughter that could be no one else but Filius. Albus' voice floated out over the cacophony, singing along to "The Indies to the Andes in his Undies", supplanting the secondary pronoun with a personal one and Otto Zilch with Dumbledore. Someone else yelled out for him to put his robes back on...

Filius cackled and ran out the doors with them.

"I don't think I _want_ to know what else is going on in there." Thoughts of Albus and Filius nearly made him lose his flan. He needed to get out of there, quickly, before Albus started streaking the corridors.

He yanked off his outer robes and threw them around Hermione's shoulders. "Come."

"Mmm, gladly."

He looked back at her and saw her suggestive expression as she took her wand and slid it straight down the front of her corset. He felt a zap of awareness flick along his taut nerves before he grabbed her wrist and pulled her along behind him.

He did _not_ turn around at the call of "_Nakie Time!_" but Hermione was having giggling fits.

They had made it several steps down the first staircase when she called out to him breathlessly, "Slow down! I can't keep up in these shoes."

He watched her teeter down the next two steps to be even with him and considered her footwear. Honestly, he'd never really thought of shoes as sexy until now. Green glitter encased her foot and shiny black stiletto heels spiked up at least four inches. She was almost tip-toe and the push of her feet like that made dangerous things happen to her legs.

She huffed a little, looking like she was struggling for breath. He looked up from his drooling over her legs and asked, "Are you all right?"

"Corset."

Hmm. She did look a bit starved for air...

She placed a hand on his shoulder and asked, "Can you hold me up while I take off my shoes?"

His eyes snapped back to hers from perusing her body yet again and it took him a moment to realize what she was asking and how much he did not want that to happen just yet.

"Absolutely not."

Before she had a chance to get defensive or whinging, he pulled her close with an idea forming in his brain. "Hold to me tightly."

She wrapped her arms around him and looked up at him expectantly.

He'd never flown _inside_ the castle before (bursting out a window to flee before being forced to do something that would seriously hurt Minerva did _not_ count) and hadn't used this spell since the fall of the Dark Lord. It took too much dark intent, but he rather thought his lustful mindset met that requirement instead of the anger and fear that used to drive him. He looked down to her and whispered the incantation.

It took more concentration than he wanted to give away from Hermione in order to control his flight through the darkened halls of Hogwarts, especially with her shrieking laughter attacking his ears. Down the steps, down, down, down to the dungeons they flew, coming to a stop before his parlor door.

His adrenaline was pounding through his body and his breath was burning in his chest as he set her back against the nearest wall. "All right?"

She was gasping for air and grinning hugely, "Oh, God, yes, but I think I need to get out of this corset. It's going to make me hyperventilate."

Just the thought of being able to get her out of that thing had him growling before he attacked her with a passionate kiss. She moaned and kissed him back, breathing gulps of air in between liplocks. A moment later, she was limp in his arms.

She'd passed out.

"Damn."

She wasn't going to be too happy about fainting, but he played the gentleman and carried her into his parlor, magicking the door open and shut. There was nothing of appropriate size to lay her on in the parlor, which gave him the excuse he needed to take her into his bedroom. Why transfigure a chair when a bed was so very nearby?

Why, indeed?

As she'd said, it _was_ his birthday.

He carefully set her on the dark gray silken counterpane and backed away to look at this woman—his woman. She looked absolutely gorgeous spread out on his bed. No one would ever know it from his spartan office, mismatched parlor, or his monotonous wardrobe, but Severus Snape was most definitely a closet sensualist.

Nothing but the finest woods, the best feather tick mattress, hand-tied ropes supporting it instead of a box spring...no expense was spared in his quest for the perfect sleep. He had so often denied himself pleasures during his previous 'life' during the war, he rather thought he deserved to have nothing but the best in his current and private life.

And now...he could share this love of finery with a woman that seemed to have a taste for sensualism, herself.

His lips quirked as he realized she still had that rabbit-ear charm in place. Her black fuzzy ears were slightly lop in her incapacity and it was adorable. He reached for his wand, canceled the charm and set it on the ebony nightstand.

His eyes traveled from the bronze curls atop her head, down her lovely and delicious mouth, over her creamy neck and décolletage before finally coming to rest on that Slytherin green corset. He reached forward and laid his hand on the belly of it, the tightest portion that created an impossibly cinched curve. Admittedly, he thought she had perfect curves, but this was something different, something tantalizing.

He slid his hand down her hip, across one of those suspenders that just screamed at him to grasp her hips—too bad they were over those ruffled tap pants and not naked skin—and reached her legs. He inhaled and tilted his head, enjoying the feel of the silk stockings separating his touch from her skin. They were of obvious quality, as was the rest of her outfit and he wondered if that was for him or for herself. Hmm.

His eyes completed their journey to her feet. She'd wanted the shoes and the corset off, but it would be disappointing to do so while she was unconscious. He wanted her awake and aware of exactly what he was doing.

So he contented himself with stroking her curvaceous legs and the stockings that encased them, hoping the soothing motion would bestir her.

His first indication that she was coming-to was when her left leg angled up into his caress. That was soon followed by a soft moan which evolved into his name.

He shuddered from his neck all the way down his spine. His name in her voice was still new and exotic to him. Seeing she was starting to fully awaken, he leaned over her to play across her lips with his own, watching her eyes.

She groaned, her eyes flared open for the smallest moment and he felt her smile break their kiss. She said his name again before succumbing to his mouth once more and he shifted to bring a knee onto the bed, sliding his hand up from her leg, over that delectable corset, and over her breast to her bare shoulder.

Hermione, his Hermione, inhaled sharply as his hot hand met her cool flesh and her engloved hands slipped up his arms all the way to his neck. He exhaled in delight at the feel of satin against his skin and arched into her hands as best he could. He felt lips against his chin, then teeth. She nibbled down his throat to the buttons at his collar.

It was dizzying to feel her nuzzling his neck to open his first buttons with her mouth.

How long would it take her to figure out that she couldn't undo them that way? He felt a few impatient tugs that would surely leave the stain of her lipstick on his shirt before she huffed and dropped her head back to his pillow.

"Is there something I'm not doing right? What am I missing?"

He chuckled and kissed her soundly before responding with the whispered words against her mouth that would release all of his buttons at once.

She looked down his body, groaned her appreciation and slid her satiny hands down his now-bare chest.

He shuddered in response, his abdomen tremoring at her slight touch. How long had it been since he'd let anyone touch him? During the war, it had become habit from mounting paranoia. Since then, he'd had a very difficult time letting go of that restraint...except now, with Hermione. For the past few months, she'd been worming her way into his personal space, making him more comfortable with her presence, day by day. As it was, she just kept moving her hands across his torso, around his sides, up his laterals and over his—he nearly convulsed—his nipples.

He buried his face in her curls and spoke softly into her ear, "You have no idea what your touch does to me, sweet Nimuë."

Her head turned into his as she ran her fingers over his shoulders and started pushing the fabric off him, "You think me bound to steal your power?"

He slightly rubbed his cheek to hers before answering, "You've already stolen my heart."

She paused and used the heels of her palms to push him slightly away. Looking into each other's faces fully, they stared into the emotional depth transcribed there. Moments passed, getting lost in each other, before she gripped his head and pulled him down to her kiss.

* * *

A/N: Okay, everybody now: AWWWWWW! On that note, don't worry: this is NOT over! Not by three chapters! ;) And I encourage every single one of you—if you haven't already—to visit the youtube channel for neil cicierega and potter puppet pals. Dumbledore's Nakie Time song WILL get stuck in your head ;) After that, watch Snape's Diary. You'll never look at broccoli the same way again. Of course, I never looked at broccoli the same way after hearing Dana Carvey sing about it, but that's just me :D _Choppin' Broc-co-lee_... (that will get stuck in your head, too) :p


	11. Chapter 11

_Just in case someone's paying attention: Mature readers only, please. Also? I be poor and own nada. Love, Dena._

* * *

Chapter 11

This was nothing like _any_ kiss he'd ever had. Hermione was full of life and passion and he could feel the depth of her heart in the bottom of this kiss. She sucked at his soul and gave him her own in return, building a frenzy between them that had him straddling her, pulling her tight waist up to him in an impossible arch until their bodies met.

She broke the kiss with a gasp. "Get it off, get this damned thing off me so I can breathe!" She went for her wand, still in her bodice and before she could magic it off, he pulled the wood from her hand and placed it on the nightstand next to his.

"Shh." He lowered her to the bed and stroked her face to shoulder. "Allow me...please."

She curled into his palm's caress and hummed, "Mmm, yesss." She started rolling to the side and he lifted up to accommodate her, settling back down astride the backs of her thighs.

He exhaled slowly as he ran his hands down her back. "Ah, I see why you've been so out of breath."

"Mm?"

Her mumbled query was all he could hear from her being buried face down into the covers. He thought he might never wash her lipstick from it, simply to remind him of this moment. Now, where was he? Ah, yes, the answer..."You've laced it too tight." The damned thing was touching at the grommets. Didn't she know it wasn't supposed to be that way?

She turned her head some and lifted it from the depths of his feather down pillow. "How would you know?"

Hmph. Apparently she didn't know everything..."Corsets aren't as rare in the wizarding world as they are in the modern muggle world. Most women here prefer them to the contraptions muggles make."

She tried to see him better, but only succeeded in arching her brow towards him, "And your expertise in this comes from...?"

He sat up, took off his upper garments and tossed them to the floor before leaning again over her back to put his lips by her ear. "Would you rather I be _in-_experienced in the ways of women?" His hands slid across her shoulders and his thumbs rolled her muscles downwards at her shoulder blades.

Her muscles shuddered in response and she purred, "Mmmmmaybe...It might have...evened the stakes." She groaned in pleasure at his touch and he smirked, nuzzling her ear until what she said finally registered.

"Hermione?" He stopped moving, holding her shoulders gently.

"Mmm?"

Time stopped, it seemed. She was tense beneath him and his heart beat heavily in anticipation of his question, "Are you saying you're a virgin?"

She was silent and still, then squirmed a little, "I-is that a problem?"

Was it? Was it a problem? He sat back and inhaled, looking down at her in thought. Did he want to do this? Didn't she deserve something better for her first time?

He looked around at the bed, her outfit, his hands on the small of her back...honestly, what would be better than this? He'd already made a commitment to her, unless she'd not understood what he meant when he said she had his heart.

Then again, this was Hermione Granger. If he knew her as well as he thought he did, she already planned this as a possible conclusion of her performance and would not be here if she didn't want to be. Who was he to argue?

Didn't he want to be her first? His entire body shuddered at the thought and he mentally growled, _Hell Yes!_

"Severus?"

She sounded so unsure, so afraid in that one moment. He needed to alleviate that. With a quick tug, he yanked at the tie on her laces, but it knotted. He grunted in disapproval and went for his wand.

"What are you doing?" She shifted but he held her between his knees and ignored her.

One modified slicing hex later, her corset was loose of its strings as well as the modesty panel.

She inhaled with a satisfied groan, but then, "That was a bloody expensive corset, Severus, why did you cut it?"

He stared at her perfect, ivory back and placed his hands at the small of it, relishing in her soft curves. "I'll buy you fifty of them. What does it matter?" Merlin, yes, what did it matter when she was so beautiful and he wanted her so badly? His erection was hot and tight and ready to climb out of his pants. He hissed in passion when he pressed it into her ruffled bottom, flexing his legs to press more tightly.

She moaned in bliss before responding, "Severus, this corset cost me a hundred euros."

The fact that she could even _try_ to make this point meant he wasn't doing enough. He dropped a little lower to enjoy the feel of his chest to her back. "Your point being?" He gritted his teeth and wanted to writhe against her, but—

Their faces were only inches away. She purred to him, "You're a teacher."

He purred back, "Hogwarts is not my only income. I've taught you enough about the politics of being a potions maker to know better than that."

Her eyes grew large, "You make that much off your patents?"

It was time to shut her up and get down to business. His eyes glinted a warning at her before he slipped down to lick the nape of her neck, "That and research articles." His tongue traveled down to the dip in between her shoulder blades, "Commissions." Her breathing hitched and his hands skimmed her sides, playing with the perimeter of her breasts, "Royalties." Lower to the small of her back, "Private trade." He bit her buttocks through her ruffles and his voice deepened, "Favors." She squealed and writhed beneath him.

His hand slid down over those ruffles, between his legs and hers to find the heat of her. He cupped her quim with his fingers and his thumb in her cleft, as much as her bloomers would let him and she cried out,

"Oh...oh, yes, like that! Please, like that!"

He wondered if she would talk as much through sex as she did when she was learning and smiled darkly at the thought that he would be the first to know. His hand flexed and she groaned. His other hand slipped down her back and under the top of her ruffles, skimming what was apparently a tiny g-string.

Oh, this he had to see, but her suspenders were in the way, holding her corset to her stockings. He gently unclasped each clip, caressing the bare skin of her thighs and kissing her legs in each newly revealed spot. She wriggled and moaned the farther he went. Finally free, he shifted away from her, up to his knees and pulled her hips up so she was kneeling on the bed.

Such a sight! Her round buttocks were deliciously encased in black ruffles and somewhat trembling from her indecision of exposing herself or trying to tuck back in.

He didn't know if he was trying to reassure her, or if he simply couldn't help exclaiming, "You have _such_ a perfect arse."

She adjusted up onto her elbows and tried to look over her shoulder, "You don't have to—Oh!" Before she could finish her questioning of his declaration, he yanked her pants down to rest at her knees and grasped her buttocks in each hand, kneading the soft flesh revealed to him.

Her surprised cry was met with his own excited growl.

His fingers slid underneath the satiny straps of her g-string, sliding his thumb down her crevice. She tensed up and clenched, pulling away from him. He chuckled and pulled her back, bending over her to embrace her from behind.

Yesssss, this is where he'd wanted to be. She fit perfectly, folded into him like this and his hands reveled in the dips and curves of her stomach, exploring up...and up and up to cup her...

"Ah!" She shuddered underneath him, arching her breasts into his hands. He obliged her and ran his fingers in turn across her nipples. They felt so very good...he was going insane with the feel of her taut nipples across his fingers. He groaned and flexed his hips, pushing his hard, wet cock against her nearly-bare bottom and groaned louder when he realized his erection had slipped out of his pants, over his unbuttoned fly and against the hot, bare silk of her bum. She cried out beneath him, into the pillow.

They rocked together like this several times until he could take it no longer. His copious pre-ejaculate had wetted the crevice of her bottom until it was a slick slide and it was driving him insane. With a low growl, he raked her knickers down off her hips and slid a finger across her wet quim to pull the rest of it down from between her tight thighs, pulling a loud call from Hermione. Pushing down his own trousers and pants was a bit more of an ordeal, but once he achieved it, he slammed back against her buttocks with both hands at her hips, bending over to kiss, lick and bite her shoulder.

She was whimpering in successive waves, the sound in perfect alignment with her tilting her arse back into him.

Merlin, this woman was going to kill him with her not-so-innocent writhing. He had to have her. Now. He'd hoped for prolonging this as much as he was capable, but capability was now taken away from him. He pulled back, and he had to hold her in place when she tried to follow. With his free hand, he gripped his cock and glazed the tip in her wetness...she shuddered, nearly breathless, and tried to push back into him again.

He wanted to tell her this would hurt, that she needed to hold still, but his head slipped into her molten folds and words left him. He shut his eyes tightly for a moment before he convulsively shuddered, pushing forward several successively deep times and feeling her virginity give way as he finally claimed this woman as his.

His mouth opened in shock...her interior muscles were shifting to accommodate him and the _heat_ was mind-blowing.

"Fuck! Woman, you're so hot!" He was mindless in the sensation of her slippery, intense heat. His sack pulsed and his cock flexed but her whimpers held him still. She was in pain, he could hear it in the catch of her breath. He dropped down to her cheek and kissed it, nuzzling into her ear. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry but that part's over now."

She breathed desperately through her mouth, making helpless noises when he inadvertently pulsed within her. He needed to get her to relax, so his hands went wandering as he kissed her neck. Just as she started to let go a little, she'd tighten back up again, so he slipped one hand down to the crux of her thighs, delving into her trimmed curls to find that tiny spot.

As soon as he did, a gush of warmth and wetness enveloped him and she cried out again. "That's right, woman, _take_ it, enjoy it." His first two fingers held her clitoris tightly, sliding back and forth from her hot core to the tiny nub, then rubbing in circular motions. She moaned deeply and tilted her pelvis up.

"Yesssss." He started moving inside her, ever so slowly, enjoying that tight belt of muscle at her entrance that seemed to milk him for all he was worth. As she cried out more loudly with every sweep of his fingers, he sped up his thrusts and called back to her in wordless abandon.

He felt his center of gravity shifting with the pull of his impending climax and the hand that had been plucking her song so masterfully slid up her abdomen to stroke her nipple, palming its delicious weight and texture in time with his cock-strokes.

His balls were tightening into an indescribable ache that sent him hurtling faster and faster into her hot quim until he bellowed his orgasm, pumping and jetting himself empty and up into blinding ecstasy...

Somewhere along the way, as he climbed that peak, he thought he'd heard her own wailing cry of release. As he dropped down beside her and pulled her with him, he could feel the slight after-pulses from her orgasm grasping at his flaccid cock.

The last thought he had before passing out was: Good.

* * *

A/N: Short, I know, but scrumptious ;) I hope you like. As always, thank you so much to all the wonderful words of encouragement and praise, as well as the amazing amount of people who have followed and favorited this story so far! FYI: Tomorrow night will be a tad bit late. Work n all. XOXO Dena


	12. Chapter 12

Sorry for the lateness, my bunnies, but life has needs. I'm contemplating just posting the last chapter along with this one, but I think I'll wait for at least a little bit... As always, thank you so much to all my wonderful supporters. I love every favorite, follow, review and alert that hits my mailbox ;) xoxo Dena

* * *

Chapter 12

Hermione laid there with the heat of his embrace at her back and struggled to regain sanity. She burned a little where he'd taken her, but everything else was a delicious thrum of satiation rolling through her veins. One part of her was wondering why she'd never tried sex before, while the other part was thrilled that her first time had been so very worth the wait.

She couldn't even bring herself to care that her pants were almost at her knees and she still wore her shoes and stockings—not when his bed and his arms were so heavenly. They cushioned her perfectly and she thought she could just lay there forever. His steady breathing at her neck lulled her drifting consciousness to rest with a smile on her lips.

Severus' hands awoke her from a blissful snooze as they slid to cradle a breast and a hip while his mouth found the curve of her neck. It sent shivers through her body and she wondered what he would do with her if she feigned sleep. Slowly, carefully, he kissed her shoulder, her bicep, the inner corner of her elbow...she moaned softly.

He stopped and surely looked to ascertain her wakefulness, but her eyes remained closed. Continuing down his path, he pulled her glove off and kissed her wrist, the palm of her hand, then her hip as it was directly beneath her hand. One hand of his own slid down her silken leg to a shoe and flipped it off her foot, encompassing her heel with his palm. The heat of his hand wrought a groan from her and he kissed her hip again before pushing her shoe and it's twin off the bed. Apparently they'd had enough acrobatics to knock her left shoe off already.

He shifted backwards to pull her down flat on her back and she sighed as his kisses moved to the soft skin of her belly. It was hard to hold still when he was nuzzling his nose just below her navel and then pressing his face into that curve like a purring cat.

Bugger trying to feign sleep, how could she lay submissive beneath the attentions of such a man?

Her breathing quickened and her hands came up to his head, threading her gloved and glove-bare fingers through his hair. He kissed her belly again with a turn of his head and balanced himself to reach for her other glove, pulling it down to expose her delicate skin. He pulled her hand up to kiss that palm as well and then released it as he went to grasp her clothing still at her knees. It was work to slide off the ruffled pants, but once he did, he tossed them across the room and went back to attack her stockings.

It was then that the corset decided to remind her of its presence beneath her. "Wait," she called, breathless and soft. He froze, most likely wondering if he'd hurt her or if she wanted to stop. She put that to rest when she rolled up and pulled her corset out from underneath herself and dropped it on the floor by the bed. "There. That feels better." She smiled at him in reassurance and his returning smile was beautiful. He dipped down to her belly, slowly shifting his knees between her legs, and she moaned when he split her legs and brought one up to his shoulder. As he rolled that stocking down, he kissed the exposed skin, bending her leg in order to reach the rest of it, all the way down to her foot.

Oh, God, who'd have thought that her legs had so many erogenous zones?

His lips caressed her ankle, then her arch, sliding his hand over her foot, then pulling it down to the bed to pay attention to the next one. She was breathing heavily by the time he started on it and his smile hinted that he was lingering over those things she moaned the loudest for.

She shuddered beneath his hands as he removed the second stocking, lifting her leg to kiss her Achilles Tendon. Her sigh filtered into speech, woven into the sensual haze he'd built, "You kiss me in the strangest places."

He hugged the back of her knee to his chest and gently bit into the soft flesh of her calf muscle, "Does it bother you?"

She smiled with her eyes closed and lifted her free leg to embrace him awkwardly, "No...I like it."

Sliding around to sit on the edge of the bed with one of her legs still in his lap, he shifted and pulled his trousers and pants down to the floor. Holding onto that leg, he bent over and undid his braces, letting them and his socks fall down before pushing them the rest of the way off with his feet. She started shifting her leg but he grabbed it and held it still, "Unless you want to perform irreparable damage to me and mine, I'd suggest you hold still."

Perplexity clouded her face until she saw him grin wolfishly and his hardened cock pulsed, tapping once and lightly against her leg. Wonder at his amazing body filled her mind and when she lifted up to her elbows, she saw his expression...

He was so relaxed and smiling, it was difficult to resign this man with the man she'd been learning from for the past few months. Back in the Hall, she'd made sure to drop the small tab of parchment that held her payback for the rest of the staff before ever touching him, but she wondered at the possibility that her gloves might have been tainted with the De-inhibitor potion, unintentionally. He was so different with her here...

Then again, this was the same man that had _this_ _bed_ and _these covers_. She writhed along the counterpane, enjoying the feel on her naked skin.

His hands came down on her knees, "Stop that, you little nymph."

She smiled decadently, "Mmm...Why?"

Her eyes flew open as he pushed her legs apart and shifted up on the bed between them, "Because I'm not done with you, yet."

She watched his eyes darken as he lowered his face...down...down...watching her, then bringing his hand around the top of her thigh and pulling her labia up with his fingers. She shuddered in anticipation, watching his tongue slip out of his open mouth and meet her clitoris with a firm lick.

Her wanton cry was cut short as soon as he dove in and started suckling. His lips...Oh, God, his lips! Then his tongue started flicking back and forth...She could feel herself tighten and rise up to him.

He rode her up and pushed her thighs away from his head, massaging their softness and running his thumbs tantalizingly close to her anus. She was shocked at how good this felt. Yes, she'd been a virgin coming to him, but she'd played around orally, and as far as this night went, _nobody_ compared to the feelings this man elicited in her.

Nobody...

Of course it didn't hinder his efforts that she loved him.

Her eyes rolled back in her head and her mouth opened wide to suck in air in shock. A thumb tip grazed her perineum and her quim flexed. His tongue ran down into her core, then back up to that tight little spot as that thumb slid up between her wet labia. That slight change in texture, that combination, this newness and her love for him...the shock of it all together...it was sending her quickly into overload and...and...and...

"Severuuuus!"

She bucked and writhed her climax into his face and he held on, chuckling and groaning. Little wet noises came from down there as he strove to keep contact between his lips and her lower ones. Soon it became too much and she pushed on his head, pulling his hair when he resisted. His self-satisfied smirk was gorgeous and she loved him for it.

He kissed her thigh, lightly biting it, then resting his face on it, and her little post-orgasmic pulses flit over her nerves even faster. They huffed their exertion into the quiet room until he started kissing up her body to her overly sensitive nipples. She gasped and arched, somewhat wanting to pull away, but then again not...until she felt him.

The tip of him was right...there.

She held still and looked up at him. Oh, God, this was the Severus from her fantasy. His dark hair was hanging down from his face in twin curtains and he was staring at her with such intensity. Her knees came up to his hips and she shifted her wet core just every-so-slightly over the tip of his cock. He shuddered and the tip slipped inside. Just inside. His amazing nostrils were heaving air with his restraint and she appreciated it. She wanted to feel him slowly this time. Biting her bottom lip, she tilted her pelvis just a little, then back down. A little pop of air came out of his mouth, but he held tight. She did it again, each time working just a little bit more of him inside until she reached the stretching feel of his girth. It still slightly stung, but she held still to adjust. Amazingly, he let her. He was seething air between his teeth with a ferocious look on his face, but he was holding still for her.

She couldn't stand holding back from him any longer and just had to touch him. Her fingers roamed up his laterals, over his pecs and lightly abraded his tight little nipples. She grew hotter and wetter just knowing she could do this to him.

He growled, "Fuck, woman, if you keep on, I will not be responsible for the consequences."

She raised her eyebrows in challenge, watched him carefully and slowly leaned up to lick one of his nipples. It was such a lovely texture, soft and distraught, and all for her...

He grabbed her hands and pushed her back into the pillows, slamming his cock all the way into her. She cried out and her eyes rolled in her head at the surprising invasion. When her eyes finally opened to find him staring darkly at her, he snarled, "I will not—" he pulled almost all the way out and she pined after the loss, "be held—" he pushed half way in, then back out again, "responsible!"

At that, he bucked forward, filling her more than ever before, and dove in to take her lips in a hungry kiss as completely as he fucked her body. Their fingers entwined and she moaned into his mouth with each heavy thrust, stars fighting to explode in her vision as she hyperventilated down the path to heaven.

His thrusts grew quicker and harder...he lifted up and stared into her eyes, his mouth wide open with impending orgasm. Just when she was about to tilt over the brink, she heard him shout, "Marry me, Hermione, _marry me_!"

Everything stopped. Everything went quiet except for both of their shocked breathing. Her entire body pulsed around him, ready to give over to bliss as she looked up at him with the tiny amount of clarity left to her. Did he mean it? Was he just lost in the throes of passion?

Something like desperation twisted his face... "_Please,_" he whispered.

He meant it. He meant it! Excitement rolled through her and her entire body quaked...Oh, God, oh god... "Oh, God! _Yes_!" Her orgasm pulled her under with the heady emotion of Severus' request. He pushed into her, helplessly, and she cried out even more, "Yes!" Her eyes opened in tears and she pulled him down to kiss her. His cries of completion echoed in the back of her mouth and tears rolled down her face.

Passion calmed and he lay still above her, taking his face to nuzzle her ear in something that felt like insecurity. He shivered, he shifted, he wrapped his arms around her as much as he could and whispered, "I love you."

She smiled and went to sleep a happy woman.


	13. Chapter 13

Special thanks (et Merci!) to the following for their support during posting: Articcat621, guiltypleasure2, ptite mac, Eminator, thebookworm90, worrywart, silverose29, arabellagrace, KillerSnowball, Notlori925, Misssunshine13, Sofia, SweetAle4u, roseberrygirl, Hello, IrishChic20, loyd1957, and of course, Yiggersentia ;)

Everyone, I hope you've enjoyed this, especially this last chapter as I bring it to a close. I love you all and to all a good night!

* * *

Chapter...O.o...13!

The next morning, Severus woke with a face full of curls. He blinked and sputtered, then smiled as he remembered _everything_ that had transpired the previous night, and how this had to be the best birthday he'd ever experienced. Gently pushing her curls out of his face and disentangling a few strands from this morning's unshaven beard, he took stock of their positions and how best to wake her up. Her head was facing away on his chest and she was curled up to his side, one arm sprawled across him and both knees bracing against his hip. That made her hip jut beautifully out from underneath the covers, and his hand just couldn't resist stroking from her shoulder, down her soft waist, and up the curve of her hip to rest on her lovely, round buttocks. He even squeezed, just because he could.

She was awake now, and tightening her hold on his torso. "Mmmmorning."

His sleep-heavy voice replied to her husky one, "Good Morning."

She shifted up a little so she could turn to see him, "Good God, your voice is deep. Is it always like that when you wake up?"

He smirked, "You have the rest of your life to find out."

The relief that broke over her face was...interesting. She dropped her head to his chest again and closed her eyes. "You have no idea how glad I am that you remember that. I was afraid you were just lost in the moment."

His heart went out to her and he brushed some of her wayward curls from her face. "That was probably the most incandescent moment of my life. I will not ever forget it."

She smiled and her face crumpled pink into tears, "I'm so glad. I'm so happy. I've loved you so much for so...long." Her wet eyes shone brightly up at him and surely she could feel his heart hammering in his chest.

"Crying doesn't seem like happy."

She laughed a bit, which was his goal. He wanted her smiling at him again, not tearing up.

"Maybe not, but I can't help it."

His eyebrows came together in confusion, "I don't want you to cry on my birthday."

She looked ready to smack him when something registered across her face. She sat up and called out, "Bort!"

Before Severus could ask her what was going on, an elf cracked into the room. "Yes, Apprentice Granger?"

He was fascinated by the narrow look she gave him for the use of her title. Didn't she want the elf to use her name? Then he smirked at the thought that it wouldn't be her name for much longer.

"Bort, can you please bring me the satchel I left in the kitchens last night?"

To his surprise, the elf actually snorted. "Done that, Miss. Last night when all the professors were running havoc across the school. It's right over there."

It pointed to the chair by the door, shook its little head and snapped off. Severus knew his face was contorted into amusement, but honestly...running havoc? What were they doing? Spraying graffiti on the suits of armor? Showing their arses to the portraits?

"Well."

He looked to Hermione, who sat in indignation and stared at her satchel. Well, indeed. She looked a little out of sorts, but then smiled at him and scurried out of bed towards the chair and her satchel.

Watching her sashay across the room, she really did have the most perfect arse.

It was but a moment longer, and she rejoined him in bed, presenting him with a box wrapped in black paper, no bow.

He smirked. "_Another_ gift?"

"Another?"

He accepted the box and shook his head at her, "You drugged my colleagues into some kind of insanity last night that even the elves have taken note of, you then danced your way into my lap, my bedroom and my heart...not long after, you agreed to become my wife. Now, what else are you giving me?"

Her face fell somewhere between pleased and embarrassed. "Oh. Um...nothing much, then, when you put it that way."

His eyebrow arched, but he went to unwrapping his gift just enough to get inside the box. Everyone knew boxes meant nothing, as it could hide something completely different. In this case, however...

He looked into the box with a puzzled expression, then pulled the odd shaped black bottle out. It looked to be a glass cologne bottle, shaped like the Union Jack. Eying Hermione, he pulled out the stopper and sniffed.

Bergamot, with notes of jasmine, cedar...vanilla...then, before he could catalogue the many scents and textures of the cologne, he remembered _why bergamot_.

His eyes flew back to hers, "I don't think I'll easily forget that kiss, either, but I appreciate the reminder."

She bit her lip with a smile, waited for him to restopper the bottle and put it down on the floor, then flew into his arms for a hug. "I knew you'd know why I got it! I'm sorry I didn't take the time to make it for you, but cologne is just so bloody difficult to get right the first time and I was concentrating on my little revenge for the other professors. You don't mind? You like it?"

He laughed, "I wondered when you'd start your incessant chattering again."

She backed away in affront but he pulled her back, "Of course I like it. I'll wear some down to breakfast, shall I? Then we can see the results of your revenge."

"Oh, yes please."

He smiled and kissed her quickly before they both got out of bed, performed their morning rituals and got dressed. He wore his usual, while she borrowed one of his shirts, pulling a brassiere, her light green slip and a knee length black skirt out of her satchel. At his inquiring eyebrow, she responded, "Well, I _was_ hoping..."

He smiled again and as soon as she was dressed—all the way to her outer robes and green glittery shoes—he slipped his hand into hers. He felt her fingers and something struck him as missing...

Inspiration struck, "Ah. Wait here a moment."

She stood still and lovely in the middle of his parlor as he retreated back to his bedroom, digging through his keepsake chest in the bottom drawer of his clothing armoire. His fingers slipped over a black velvet bag and he knew he had what he needed.

He closed everything back up and walked back to his fiancee. His chest expanded a little with the ability to say that, even in his head.

He approached her and instructed her to hold out her hand as he pulled loose the drawstring at the mouth of the bag and tumped its lone content into her palm. A silver signet ring with the initials ELP rolled into her hand.

She held it up with wonder, "Severus?"

He looked from her to the ring and back, "It's only until I can get a proper one. Even Daigon Alley's not open on Sunday."

Her eyes were tearing up, but she was smiling softly. "But darling, this was your mother's. I don't mind in the least, but are you sure?" She finished by looking up at him and he was startled beyond comprehension...

"How—?"

Her head bowed, "Um...Sixth year." She fidgeted. "Harry had your book and I...I found her name in the library."

He was shocked. "Didn't you tell him? He acted like he didn't know..."

She shook her head, "We didn't put her name with yours until later. We thought the book might have been hers, but she...didn't fit the description so obvious from the book."

She wasn't looking at him. She was obviously afraid of his response, but she'd done nothing wrong. She was biting her lips together and turning the ring back and forth between her fingers. Impulsively, he reached forward and closed his hand around hers to stop the movement.

"Hermione, I want you to wear the symbol of our troth, and that's the only ring I have until I can get out to get your own. Will you wear this for me?"

She nodded and lifted her head. She was crying again, and smiling again...he wondered if this was a normal thing for her when she crashed into him for a tight embrace.

"Of course I will!" She backed away and held it up to him. He blinked. Her smile brightened, "Put it on me, silly!"

He rolled his eyes, but his mouth was threatening another smile as he plucked the small silver signet ring out of her fingers and grabbed for her left hand. She flattened out her fingers and he held the ring over the index, middle, pinky, then back to her ring finger. He looked back into her eyes and murmured, "The closest to your heart and mine." With a small shimmer of unintentional magic, he slid the cold metal onto her hand and watched it resize to fit.

Her grin was going to break her face if it grew much larger, but it was adorable. He kept his snort internal and angled out his elbow for her to take. Her smile melted into a smirk, her nose tipped in the air and she slipped her hand round his elbow to show off her new ring. With her nose up, she looked up to him and asked, "Shall we?"

He'd watched her in bemusement, but this made him snort, then chortle. She laughed with him and they finally made it out of his quarters and into the hallway.

As they approached the Great Hall, staring down anyone so uncouth as to gape at their coupleness, they noticed that the closer the got to the Hall, the less attention anyone paid them. Excited buzzing hovered around an announcement board to the right of the main doors.

They looked to each other until he leaned down to her, "Wait a moment and I'll clear them off."

Well, at least this time, she could watch him and enjoy the spectacle without being caught up in it. She settled against a column and waited for him to descend upon the masses.

His Billowness swept down upon the innocent hordes of gossipers and barked, "Cease your gossip-mongering! Two points from each person left loitering about this hallway by the time I reach the count of three!"

Oh, my, he was being soft on them. He'd given them a head start! She smiled and watched the children scamper off like water bugs from a torch. One of the groups muttered as they walked quickly by, "Merlin, if anyone needed to get laid, it's him."

She covered her mouth and snorted. If they only knew.

As the last miscreants left the corridor, Hermione approached the board. Severus was already chuckling under his breath, so whatever it was must be good.

She came around his shoulder and blinked. "Severus?"

He broke out of laughter and stood up from peering at one of the photographs, "Yes?" She looked over his shoulder and saw what had so interested the children as well as her soon-to-be husband. Oh, Good Lord. Fred and George had had a camera!

She reached forward and started snatching them off the cork board. "Help me take these down before anyone else sees them. They'll all be humiliated."

At that, Severus bent into a bray of laughter and slapped his knee. "Finally! Someone other than me!"

She cocked her head at him in curiosity, "You?"

"Yes! Oh, this is brilliant." She eyed him and kept taking the moving pictures down, but caught herself watching them as they filled her hands. One in particular had Hagrid tossing Filius over the crowd and as he started to descend, he grabbed Albus' collar, pulling his robes over his head as he landed with a well-placed charm. Thankfully the picture stopped as soon as Albus bent over to simply let his robes fly, but it started again with the 'midget toss' and repeated.

"Oh, God." She stuffed it under an innocuous one of Poppy and Sybill sleeping in a pile against the High Table, drooling into each other's hair.

It was when she came across the image of a tabby cat licking her bum, then rolling around on the table and lapping up all the alcohol that she started snatching off everything and not even looking.

Severus had fallen to sit on the ground, giving up trying to stand with laughing so hard.

When she tried to pull the last photograph out of his hand, he held tight, looking up at her in amusement. She tugged and tugged and he held and held until finally he let go and she fell right on her bottom. His face exploded in more laughter and he started slapping the floor.

She looked down into the image and found Hooch tripping Hagrid and him landing face first into the cake. It then followed him drunkenly eating the cake around his head. Back to the trip and over and over.

She shook her head and tucked them all into an inner pocket of her robes as she stood.

Severus had climbed to his feet, pulled her into his arms and bent her backwards with a kiss.

"My darling, that was fantastic. This has been...the Best Birthday Ever. Thank you! We have blackmail for years, thanks to you!"

She smiled, breathless after the kiss. "I'd love to lay claim, but Fred and George did most of _this_. I didn't do much."

He shook his head, kissed her again, and said, "I don't care. You asked them for help, right?"

"Mmm-hm."

"Then it was you." He looked down at her in wonder, "Are you certain you were sorted right?"

She chuckled, "Were you?"

"Damned if I know. Let's have breakfast, future-Madame Snape."

The sentiment sent thrills down her spine as she took his elbow again. They stalked through the large front doors into the Great Hall with all the aplomb of a King and Queen, watching everyone watch them as they did so.

Albus was back in his chair, though it looked like a potion or two was holding him together. The closer they got, the more glazed his eyes became. They took their seats to his left and started in on the food before them. No other teachers were in sight.

It wasn't long before the headmaster's voice wafted down from on high. "Am I to assume the two of you had a pleasant evening?"

They exchanged a look before Severus turned to him with an arched brow, "Didn't _you_?"

_The End_

* * *

xoxo Dena

Oh, Gracious, this was fun! I hope you like it all and I really and truly thank everyone who stuck with me on this journey. Credit to Guiltypleasure2 for the suggestion of there being incriminating pictures! Thank you!


End file.
